Arcana
by Enchantable
Summary: Sequel to Silent Force. Its been fifty years of peace for Soul Society until, in one night, the peace is destroyed. Now everyone must find the strength thought lost to once again, save the world. If they can figure out who they're saving it from of course
1. The Fool

**AN**

**Hello everyone! Welcome to the Sequel to Silent Force. If you haven't red Silent Force I suggest you go and do that. If you're glaring at the screen and thinking you can catch on then you can do that too. Okay so here's the first chapter. **

VioTanequil **is mind-blowingly awesome (yes! I have a thesaurus!! Compliments for everyone!)**

**AN**

It had been many years since that fateful morning when Hinamori Momo had found what she thought to be her Captain pinned to the tower like a beacon, his body decomposing in the early morning sun, blood still dripping down the sides.

It had been just over fifty years to be precise.

The past five decades had continued in their usual fashion. The Winter War had been won, naturally and it had been her that had finally struck Aizen down. She still carried the scars on her hands from that choice, though the angry red had faded to a pale pink, barely visible at all. Guilt had driven Soul Society to try and cure the Vizards, to make amends for their mistakes. What no-one had expected was for only one Vizard to remain and the rest to go off, saying their bond to Soul Society had been broken long ago and they had no desire to repeat the mistake of placing their trust in people who had destroyed them so long ago.

In the search for the cure and the losing of the Vizards they had gained something no-one could have predicted, the four former Espada. They had been kept alive in the quest for the cure and because the Spiritual Balance was so precarious thanks to the war. Then the Balance had finally settled, but by that time, the former Espada had become full Shinigami and proven their friendship in all cases, and love in certain others. Now the four of them were very strong, very good Shinigami--well, she amended, good might be pushing it. No one would call Grimmjow 'good', at least, not to his face.

Hinamori liked to think the 5th Division had retained a bit of the two faced nature of its former Captain, just a bit. During the day and most of the night, it was a loud and crazy place, full of life and friendship and more than a little competition with the 11th Division. But for part of the night and the early morning, it was a place of peace. Those, like her, who were awake, all seemed to have the same silent agreement that there was no need to make noise, that the silence was wonderful in this short span of time. As she walked the confines of the Division, Hinamori kept her steps quiet. Even Tobiume held the silence.

So when she saw _it_, she didn't scream.

It wasn't to stop the silence; it was that she thought she was asleep. After all, the impossibility of the situation was so great and so obvious, that there was just no way it wasn't in her head. Then someone else saw it and their scream confirmed that she was not asleep.

The odd sense of calm didn't go away. She could feel everything with a sort of detachment. The young Shinigami was still screaming, but the sound came to her distant and foggy. She didn't even realize she was moving until her hand grasped the hilt of Tobiume.

"Snap, Tobiume," she whispered, the familiar power washing over her, "Bankai," she pushed into her next release state, "Shield it, Tobiume," she ordered, the violet shield locking up the tower and cutting the view off. Hinamori raised Tobiume high over her head and fired off a violet blast, the color lighting up the sky. She watched the sky over Soul Society turn a bright violet, bright enough to penetrate sleeping eyelids and summon help. Her eyes went back to the glowing tower, the outline of what was hidden underneath barely visible. She frowned; she should have made the blast bigger.

They were going to need a lot of help.

"Momo."

Hinamori smiled and ducked her head, knowing the deep voice that sent shivers racing up and down her spine. She turned around to face none other than Hitsugaya Toshiro. The Captain of the 10th Division was no longer the 'boy genius' except in nostalgic teasing. He was no longer a boy. He towered over her now; his white hair was longer than before though it still stood up in the same untamable style he had worn in his youth. His eyes were still cold to the untrained eye but she could see the warmth--and the worry--they currently held. Hyourinmaru was over his shoulder out of habit rather than necessity. Also because the one time Hitsugaya had worn him at his waist Hyourinmaru had yelled at him that he was an ancient, proud Zanpakuto and he was _not_ going to be carried lower than Hitsugaya like some obedient fool.

It made sense that he would be the first one there. Hitsugaya had always been in tune with her Spiritual Power, he would be able to know that something was wrong. He must have known it was bad as well, except for the worry in his eyes he appeared to be completely calm. He spent enough time in her Division and she in his that the sight of them apart was odder than the sight of them together. He walked over to her, his steps smooth and precise, until they were standing side by side. His eyes took in the tower, the faint outline of what was hidden behind the shield.

"The others should be on their way," he said, his voice as calm as the rest of him.

"Yes," she replied, her voice surprisingly hoarse as if she had been the one screaming, "They should be."

He said nothing. Half hidden by the sleeve of his robe, his fingers found her own, interlacing their left hands together--the engagement ring he had given her the night before pressing deeply into the side of his finger.

**Break**

Kuchiki Byakuya may not have considered himself a hero but he did not think he was a coward either--most of the time. At the moment he was content to be one and leave the Kuchiki Mansion at the crack of dawn purely to avoid the mess his home had become. Not the Mansion, he amended, the people inside of it were his current problem.

Or rather, the lack of a person inside it was his problem.

Yoruichi Shihouin had finally done what everyone had expected her to years ago and married Kisuke Urahara. Though the Shihouin house was not as glorified as it had been when she abandoned it, the Elders could still appreciate an epic love story like hers. Especially when it resulted in the thing they had feared the most they would not have.

An heir.

Kohaku Urahara was the spitting image of both his parents with his mother's vibrant eyes and his father's blond hair, his skin tone somewhere between the two of them. He had already shown promise, even before entering the Shinigami Academy, mastering rudimentary Kido, Shunpo and even a bit of shape-shifting, much to the delight of his mother. He was smart as well, much to the delight of his father with a penchant for troublemaking that made Soul Society very worried and his parents very, very proud. It also made the elders very happy, now there was someone to redeem all the mistakes Yoruichi had made. There was hope for the bloodline once more.

Unfortunately for Byakuya that apparently trumped _everything_ he had done in his stint as the Head of the Kuchiki family. Like most of the Heads before him he had inherited the title from his grandfather. Normally it took a generation or so for the kind of power that was required both to be Head of the family and the Captain of the Sixth Division to be seen again. It had been the same with Yoruichi, she had taken the position from her grandfather. But if Kohaku continued to show so much promise, then it was nearly guaranteed that the usual generational skip would not happen in the Shihouin house and if there was one thin to be said about the Kuchiki's it was that they did not lose.

He had tried to stress to the Elders that his intentions were that when Ichigo and Rukia had children and then grandchildren, one of them would take the position from him, whichever was powerful enough to be both the Head of the family and the Captain of the Sixth Division. Unfortunately, despite everything that they had been though, Rukia was technically his _adopted_ sister, his sister-in-law, and the blood that flowed through her veins was not that of the ancient Kuchiki line. That was something the Elders could not accept. The idea of _his_ bloodline ending made them sick. If there was one thing they loved, it was tradition and tradition stated that he had to find someone and produce an heir with them.

The only problem with that was there was no-one in Soul Society he particularly cared to marry or have a child with. The Elders seemed to realize that the probability of him finding love was rather slim and decided to settle for an arranged marriage with someone who felt that marrying into the Kuchiki family was better than marrying for love. Byakuya had scoffed at the idea, he couldn't think of anyone who would want to marry him.

He had been very, _very_ wrong.

Apparently, there were scores of women who would like to marry him and produce a child. Enough so that the Elders were actually _smiling_. At all hours of the day (he had quickly put a curfew on the time women were allowed to be shown in) women were coming in to talk to the Elders. The problem was when the Elders approved, and the women were shown to him.

Renji had caught him the last time he had slept in the office while Rukia had half of Soul Society trying to find him when he didn't come home. He knew she wanted to see him happy, much like he wanted Renji to be happy as well, but sometimes he wished that she would go back to being the meek, quiet girl with the sad violet eyes who he had adopted because of a promise so long ago. Unfortunately, he didn't think that was a feasible option anymore considering she had him, her husband, his entire household, the entire Thirteenth Division and half of Soul Society wrapped around her little finger.

Hence him sneaking out at the crack of dawn to avoid the matchmaking elders and his well meaning sister.

"Hiding?"

Byakuya froze and turned to see Renji walking over to the Division, his hands shoved into his pockets. His hair was down around his shoulders and not in its usual ponytail. The inky lines that decorated his frame had only increased as time had gone on. At the moment, Byakuya was wondering what the hell he was doing sneaking around the Division so early in the morning. Rukia had been asleep when he snuck out and it wasn't like she could have Shunpoed her way over to convince Renji to wait for him and then drag him back to the manor. Even if Renji could hold his own against Byakuya's bankai, he doubted the Vice Captain would want to kill him at the moment.

"What are you doing here, Renji?" he asked with a frown of puzzlement.

"Same thing you are," he said.

Byakuya opened his mouth to ask what he was hiding from when the sky turned a shocking shade of violet. The two of them froze and turned towards the 5th Division to see the tower glowing in the light.

"Well that's not good."

"Hn."

**Break**

Ulquiorra was already awake when the sky turned violet. He had been awake for an hour or so, before the sun even peaked over the horizon. Sitting hunched over the low table, he was almost unrecognizable as the pale, heartless Fourth Espada. He still had his emerald eyes and his inky black hair but his skin was a warm tan, the 4 tattoo nothing more than a faint outline on his chest. The nightmare had driven him from his bed once again, though he was still unable to remember the dream that had thrown him back into the waking world in such terror. Unable to deal with the mere _idea_ of going back to sleep again, he had left the bedroom and gone to another room of his living quarters in the 2nd Division to try and figure out what he was supposed to do.

A warm hand was placed on his shoulder. He turned his head slightly to see Orihime sitting down, nothing but concern in her slate grey eyes. He looked back at the table, only to see that she had brought out two cups of tea without him even realizing it. Not her, exactly, but rather Shun'o and Ayame. The two fairies looked up at him with concern in their eyes. Yes, Ulquiorra Schiffer, the former 4th Espada and current Vice Captain of the 2nd Division, was living with Inoue Orihime and her six fairies. Initially she had just spent so much time over at his apartment that he had suggested she leave things there so she wasn't running back and forth. Then more stuff kept coming and before he knew it, the woman herself just never really left. Now he found the place strangely empty if she stayed late at the Fourth Division or the rare nights when she stayed at her old quarters there. So did she because she would stay long enough for him to appear silently at her door before walking her back to the apartment they now really shared.

Grimmjow liked to joke they were 'living in sin' but Ulquiorra didn't care. Grimmjow Jeagerjaques was the last person in the world who should lecture _anyone_ on 'sin'. What mattered was that she was there, that she _wanted_ to be there, sitting next to him, dressed in a simple pair of suspiciously large pajama's that he was pretty sure were once his with her sunset colored hair spilling over her shoulders, she was looking at him with concern in her slate grey eyes.

"Do you remember anything?" she asked, her voice soft with sleep. He shook his head, "do you want me too--"

"No," he cut her off, his voice colder than he meant it to be. The dream had sent him back to the world in such terror, he didn't want to expose her to that. He saw her face fall and looked over at her, "I'm alright."

"I know," she said looking down at her hands, "I just--I don't want you to keep having it," his lips quirked up in agreement, "I don't think you should drink the tea," she added glancing at the kitchen, "Ayame might have tried to, uh, 'help' you sleep."

They both looked at the tea. Ayame was rather notorious for doping them if one of them had a nightmare. A side effect of Orihime's physical body dying and the six months she had spent in a coma after saving them was that the _Shun Shun Rikka_ were unable to stay in her hairclips for extended periods of time. Much like Zangetsu, they were in a constantly released state. They had also gained the ability to talk and to act freely when they were not in use. Orihime's powers had increased as well, though she had not used the defensive shield that had saved them all since. Ulquiorra had no problem with that, seeing her lying in the hospital bed once was more than enough for this lifetime in his opinion.

He felt her lay her head against his shoulder, one of his arms coming around her. He remembered when she had slapped him and wondered if that had been a sign that he was not dealing with someone who could be controlled easily. Or maybe it had been when she had sought him out while he was being turned into a full Shinigami, seeking comfort her friends no longer gave her. Of course he doubted even if there was a sign it wouldn't tell him he would wind up living in an apartment with her and the six fairies that made it a home. That made it, not his home but their home. He knew that he had a heart, and now he knew that his heart belonged to her.

The sky turning a dazzling violet color drew gasps and applause from the _Shun Shun Rikka_ and a familiar, unpleasant knot settling in Ulquiorra's stomach. Hinamori may have been known for her violet colored attacks but it had been a while since he had seen one of that magnitude within Soul Society. Orihime sat up, her eyes widening at the sight of the flash, her mind going along the same lines.

It took less than a minute for them to get up and dressed. As they hurried to the door, it was opened unceremoniously by none other than Grimmjow Jeagerjaques.

It made sense, he was, after all, living with Soifon.

At the moment he was dressed in his usual cloths, his shirt was short sleeved though, the armband riding on his left shoulder. His hair was as untamed as always. At the moment the skin where his Hollow Mask had been was decorated with three small butterfly crests. Orihime had taken away the scars from the skin but even years later Grimmjow always felt rather odd if it was unblemished. Fortunately, Soifon shared the sentiment and was more than happy to help.

"Emergency meeting," he said jerking his thumb over his shoulder, "Soifon went ahead, I'm supposed to go with you two."

"Do we know what's going on?" Orihime asked as the three of them made their way down the corridor.

"No," he said, "Unohana called it after she saw Hinamori's signal. Soifon's gone to get the--"

"You three," Soifon said, not even slowing to land on the ground, "come with me, now."

They didn't need to be told twice. In a burst of Shunpo they appeared at the 5th Division. A wide radius around the tower was currently encased in ice. Soifon landed in front of them and turned around, blocking their path.

"That bad?" Orihime asked, her voice soft.

"I wouldn't let the Fairies out," Soifon said. Orihime nodded, the Fairies going obediently into her hairclips, "try not to scream," she added as the ice opened enough to let them inside. Soifon looked upwards and they followed her eyes.

"Oh my God," Orihime sucked in her breath, turning around and burying her face in Ulquiorra's chest. His arms locked around her but his eyes stayed focused on the tower.

"Captain Unohana felt it was best if you all saw this," Hitsugaya said, his voice echoing around the ice, "I do not need to stress to you all that secrecy is our priority now," they all nodded in agreement, "Vice Captains you are to return to your Divisions and keep them calm. They must not know _anything_ of this--any rumors must be dispelled _immediately_. Captains we are to convene in the Central 46."

Quickly they all nodded and dispersed to follow orders.

**Break**

Oscar Yasutora sat hunched over his desk, his pen dwarfed by his massive hands. He glanced up at the teacher every so often from underneath his messy bangs before he would focus on his notes once again.

"Oscar."

Oscar continued to look at the paper, steadfastly ignoring the tapping of his ex girlfriend.

"Oscar."

He clenched his free hand into a fist. Usually that was enough to get whoever was bothering him to leave him the hell alone. Not this time.

"Oscar, I got stabbed by a Shinigami last night and I need your help."

He snapped the pen.

"Suki, what the hell?" he hissed twisting in his seat, "Talk to me after class."

"After class?" she bit back, "I'm telling you I got _stabbed_ last night and you're just ignoring me!"

"I'm trying too," he said looking back at the teacher, "I miss class enough for legitimate reasons, I don't need to miss _more_ class because of you," he shook his head, "Especially not when you pull crap like this."

"Crap? I'm telling you I got stabbed last night and now I've got one of those--those things you told me about and I don't know who the hell else to go too--"

"Find someone else," he gritted out.

"There is no-one else!" she practically wailed.

"Yeah? How about the Shinigami who stabbed you?" he demanded shoving his bangs back angrily, "try talking to him."

"I can't find him!" she wailed.

"Then, Ms. Suwatari, I suggest you look outside," the teacher said coldly, "Mr. Yasutora, why don't you help her?"

Oscar glared furiously at Mitsuki as he gathered up his things and stormed out of the classroom into the hallway. The girl was nothing but trouble. Alcoholic, nightmare fueled, paper-work skimping trouble. So what if she had the hottest body in school and he hadn't had as much fun as he had with her in years? She was nothing but trouble and the fact that he was standing outside the class instead of sitting inside of it was proof enough of that. As for her part, Mitsuki clearly didn't think she'd done anything wrong. She was leaning against the wall, her arms crossed under her considerable chest with her dark sunset colored hair cascading down her shoulder and her grey eyes focused on the floor, her face uncharacteristically serious.

"This is great!" he threw up his hands, "we broke up already! I'm supposed to be _in_ there and instead I'm out _here _with you of all people! I miss class enough for things that are important, I don't need to miss them for you too!"

"Oh please, we were hooking up, friend with benefits at best, we weren't fucking _Soul Mates_ Oscar," she glared up at him angrily, "besides I'm trying to tell you a Shinigami came and stabbed me last night so I could kill a Hollow! You're the only person I know who has any idea about this kind of thing! It's like your family business or something."

"That's supposed to be a secret! But, yes it is! But what you're talking about is a serious offense! My Aunt almost got executed for doing that with my Uncle."

"For doing what?"

"For giving him part of her Shinigami Power, there was no way--"

"The Hollow attacked my family," she said, "this guy, he looked at me like he knew me, like he _had_ to help me--"

"Did you hook up with him too?" he snapped.

"Oh my God, are you kidding me? This guy stabbed me, gave me part of his--whatever you call it--and then I had this sword, but it wasn't really a sword, it was kind of weird and there was this orange eyed woman telling me I had to remember, but she didn't tell me what I had to remember, and then I passed out and when I woke up he was gone."

"How was your sword weird?" he asked, his voice strained.

"It had a name," she said, "and now it won't shut up!"

"Fuck," he swore, running a hand through his hair, "come on."

"Come on where?" she demanded.

"You wanted my help? Come on," he led her down the hallway, "my grandmother's going to kill me anyway," he muttered as they walked out of the building, "okay so this Shinigami was injured and, to protect you, he gave you part of his Spiritual Power. If you can hear your sword--which is called a Zanpakuto by the way--then we need help."

"Help from who? Oscar where are where are we going?" he continued to hurry down the street, "Osca--" she knocked into him as he stopped, "a shop? Are you crazy?!"

"No," he said, "not yet anyway," he sighed and shoved open the door, "Masaki!" he shouted.

"Finally!" the door slammed open, "you two, follow me. We've got a big problem."

"Welcome to being a Shinigami," he muttered walking into the shop.

"Being a what?! I was asking for information, I didn't say anything about being a Shinigami!" she cried, "I still have a pulse!"

"Will you just come on?" he demanded grabbing her and yanking her inside, slamming the door shut behind him, "this is my cousin, Masaki," he said motioning to the woman standing in the doorway. Mitsuki's eyes were on the man standing next to the woman though, "and that is--"

"Gin," he said with a casual smirk, "Ichimaru Gin."


	2. The Magician

**AN**

**Woo Hoo, all those reviews, man I feel the pressure!! **

**I do have to beg your forgiveness though, I am a student and unfortunately my classes do not afford me the same amount of time as my summer job did. Therefore I must ask for your understanding in the time between updates. I apologize in advance and hope you bear with me.**

**As per usual, **VioTanequil**is unbelievably fantastic!!**

**AN**

Captain Halibel of the Ninth Division had mistakenly assumed that she had seen pretty much everything. Between being a Hollow, an Espada and then a Shinigami she had seen a lot. Spending fifty years, even in a 'peaceful' Soul Society had only furthered her conviction in that obviously mistaken thought. Now looking down at the bodies in front of her she knew that she was wrong. Her stomach churned uneasily, she may not have particularly cared about the man in front of her but what had been done to him was just, it was nothing short of disgraceful.

Now she just couldn't figure out how the hell to get him down.

"He smells kind of funny Bel-Bel."

Halibel turned her head to see the 10th Division Vice Captain Neliel Tu Oderschvank peering at the body. Her green hair hung down her shoulders almost to the small of her back and her hakamas were tighter than most. Her hair was pulled back to reveal the pink mark under her eyes and the scar cutting across her forehead. Hidden under the top half of her robe, the phoenix tattoo she was known for decorated her back. Her left arm was decorated with the Vice Captain's armband.

"He's decomposing Nel," Halibel told her.

"I know _that_," Nel said rolling her eyes, "but how do we get them down?"

"Them?" Halibel demanded.

"Um yeah," Nel said jerking her thumb, "His Vice Captain's back here."

"What?!" Halibel shot back with Nel to confirm that statement.

"It's a good thing Captain's thorough," she said with an appreciative nod, "if he didn't encase the whole tower all of Soul Society would know."

"Yes, Nel, your Captain is very very smart," Halibel said absentmindedly as she tried to figure out the next move.

"You're still my favorite Captain Bel-Bel!" Nel wailed throwing her arms around Halibel.

Halibel's fists clenched as she tried not to tell Nel that now was not the time to be a ditz. Not that it would make much of a difference though. Whenever stress was high Nel would act rather ditzy just as Halibel would get very very quiet. At the moment Halibel thought they were passed the stress point and moving quickly towards the 'kill or be killed' point.

"Sun Sun!" she shouted down.

"Yes Captain?!" came the call from her former Fraccion and current 3rd Seat.

"Get the tarps ready!" she turned to Nel, "get Gamuza, this one's too hot to touch, we're going to have to pry them down."

"On it," Nel said jumping back and pulling out Gamuza, "Declare! Gamuza!"

The sword she held shifted seamlessly into a double-bladed lance. The main part of the weapon retained its dark green color; the part where she placed her hands had been wrapped in black leather that encased the base of each of the dusky silver blades. She slid one of the blades under the body and pried him off the tower. Dondochakka and Sun Sun stood under with the tarps as Nel sent the first body careening down to them.

"Its a good thing I told Dondochakka to bring another," she muttered as the two of them did up the tarp before hurrying around the tower to catch the second body as it fell, "we should probably leave the ice up," Nel said scratching at the dark stain on the tower.

"Yes," Halibel agreed, "let's get to the Central 46," she added as members of both their divisions picked up the tarps and hurried after them.

They arrived at the Central 46 to find both the Captains and their Vice Captains already gathered. There was no hesitation in her step as she walked over to where Shuuhei Hisagi stood, accepting the white robe that she had ran out without. Sun Sun and Dondochakka placed the two tarps on the tables and hurried out. Irrationally Halibel wanted to call Sun Sun back, to make sure that she was safe. She stuffed the feeling down and focused, like the rest of the Captains, on the bodies in between the two neat lines they had created. Nel hurried over to Hitsugaya and stood behind him.

They made a strange group. They had before but now, now it was even more so. The 2nd Division had Captain Soifon, one braid instead of two, her eyes on the tables. Behind her stood her Vice Captain Ulquiorra Schiffer, his eyes also on the table but every so often they would glance at Orihime.

The third Division was noticeably missing Gin Ichimaru, its Captain. Kira Izuru, its Vice Captain looked as though he wished to explain but didn't want to interrupt.

The Fourth was more crowded with an unusually downcast Captain Unohana, her hands folded inside her sleeves. Her Vice Captain Isane looked very worried. Even though she was technically not a seated officer, no-one would dream of telling Orihime Inoue not to be there at the moment.

The Fifth Division was still, by far, the most colorful Division, its loudness eclipsed only by the Eleventh. Petite but fierce Captain Momo Hinamori looked at the tables, her brown-violet eyes betraying nothing. Her hair was half-pulled up, though much of its brown length was left to cascade down her shoulders. Behind her, her two Vice Captains Grimmjow Jeagerjaques and Ichigo Kurosaki were unusually silent.

The Sixth Division held Captain Byakuya Kuchiki looking impenetrable as always. Next to him Renji's eyes swept the room methodically. He still hadn't pulled his hair up yet and it hung unbound down his back.

In the Seventh Division Sajin Komamura looked down, glad his fur hid the fact he was sure the skin underneath was turning green with impending illness.

At the Eighth Division, Vice Captain Nanao Ise bit her lip, her eyes going from her Captain to the tables almost nervously. Anyone could see why. Even when fighting Captain Shunsui Kyouraku rarely looked upset. At the moment, standing there, he looked nothing short of livid.

The Ninth Division held Captain Halibel who was studying the situation with the same cold detachment she had been known for as an Espada. The only give away of her current mood was her lips which were pressed into a tight, thin line. Behind her Vice Captain Shuuhei Hisagi looked around the room, his mind working along the same lines as Renji.

The Tenth Division now held the very adult, very respected Captain Toshiro Hitsugaya. His eyes were not on the table though, but rather on Captain Ukitake. Now a man he stood tall, Hyourinmaru still slung over his shoulder by its familiar green sash. Behind him stood his Vice Captain, Nel. Her eyes weren't on the table either but rather on Renji, her usual demeanor concerning the Vice Captain obviously disturbed by the fact his hair was down.

The Eleventh Division was represented by Captain Zaraki, his one visible eye glaring at the tables. Behind him stood Yachiru, also no longer a child but rather a striking, petite woman with a cascade of pink hair. Though she no longer rode on her Captain's shoulder there was no question that if someone else tried it, she'd probably kill them.

Kisuke Urahara, Captain of the 12th Division, couldn't really feel that much sadness at the sight of the two dead bodies. He had been betrayed too many times by them to feel true sadness at their passing. He was far more intrigued by what this interesting turn of events would mean for them. Behind him his Vice Captain Nemu Kurotsuchi was already analyzing, scribbling notes away as quietly as she could. Perched on his shoulder, Yoruichi watched the exchange. She could have taken her usual place with the 2nd Division but at the moment she preferred to stay on her husband's shoulder. Neither noticed the caramel colored cat peaking out from the bag leaned against Nemu's leg.

Like Shunsui and Unohana, Captain Jushiro Ukitake was also acting out of character. His hands were crossed, as though he needed to restrain himself from pulling out his Zanpakuto and murdering someone. Behind him his Vice Captain Rukia Kurosaki kept her hand on the hilt of Sode No Shirayuki, praying that she wasn't going to have to do something to stop her Captain.

"This is the state they were found in," Hinamori began, breaking the stifling silence, "both their Zanpakuto's initial releases were enacted but, as you can see, the Zanpakuto's themselves were not there," she laced her fingers behind her back tightly, "as you've heard by now they were pinned to the 5th Division tower, similar to how Aizen Sousuke had faked his death."

The collective gasp was as awful as she imagined it would be. Just as she didn't think it was any coincidence how they had been killed she didn't think it was that she had been the one to find them. Someone was trying to send a message and they had done a very good job. it had been fifty years since Aizen Sousuke and his Winter War had brought the world to its knees. Fifty years of learning to trust, of fighting to regain what had been lost. Fifty years that was about to be undone by one act of defiance and humiliation.

And Ichimaru Gin was not there.

"Where is Ichimaru?" Hitsugaya asked abruptly, "Izuru?"

"The Captain went out last night to combat Hollows, he hasn't been seen since," he stated, "I asked Tessai but he said that the Kido-Corps has had no activity coming or going since the Captain left last night."

"Where did he go?" Hitsugaya asked

"Karakura Town," Kira responded.

"Kurosaki," Hitsugaya looked over at him only to be greeted by both 'Kurosaki's', "contact your sister, see if she knows anything."

"Karin would've called me," Ichigo said.

"Your nephew?"

"He's my great nephew and Oscar's been up to his eyeballs between his duties as a Shinigami and getting dumped by his girlfriend," Hitsugaya arched an eyebrow and gave him a look that could have froze hell over, "but I'll ask them."

"Go," Hinamori instructed, "I'll fill you in later."

He nodded and walked out of the room.

"We need to keep this quiet," Halibel said, "by now the rumors have started, the need to be laid to rest _immediately_, we cannot have a large scale panic on our hands."

"How do we do that?" Shunsui demanded, his voice tight and angry, "the whole tower turned pink and then was encased in ice."

"The Captain's acted as they thought best," Halibel shot back, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"I understand that, _Captain_ but it's too late to lay to rest all the rumors. Besides its not as if people aren't going to notice he's missing."

"They are missing," she returned, "there are two of them."

"He's the Commander General!"

The horrible truth echoed in the meeting hall like a gong. Now the bodies were not nameless, now the hole in the room was explained. The Commander General and his Vice Captain had been found, fully dressed, pinned to the tower of the 5th Division. It seemed that Sasakibe Chojiro had been so called 'pierced' many times just as the Commander General had been burned. Their bodies, still bleeding, still burning, had been pinned to the tower for Hinamori to find. The problem was that their Zanpakuto's were not with them. And now all in the room who knew the truth felt like they were on the edge of a cliff, like their balance was off, like the smallest feather would come and knock them over the edge.

"Our priority must be clear," Byakuya spoke. He did it so rarely that when he did, everyone listened, "whoever did this is still out there. We must protect the three of you," he looked at Ukitake, Unohana and Kyouraku, "you three are the oldest Captains; one of you is going to be the next Commander General."

"We don't know that," Ukitake spoke up, "I mean--there hasn't been a selection for over two thousand years."

"We need to have faith that the King will send word when he has made his selection," Unohana said, her voice soft, "until then we must all be on our guard," she smiled kindly at Halibel, "and keep the rumors quiet. We should tell our Division that the Commander General is dead, but we should not tell them how he died. They do not need to create a panic, chasing phantoms that do not know how to stay in the grave."

They nodded and walked off. Hinamori closed her eyes, painfully aware of the eyes on her. She had worked so hard to rid herself of the image of the wide eyed fool who had loved her Captain even when he had his sword through her stomach. Now that all seemed to be for naught.

"Come on," a gruff, but kind voice told her as Grimmjow got them both out of the room, "we gotta go find out what Ichigo knows."

"Right," she agreed as they hurried to the Division. Ichigo was on the phone but hung up quickly when they walked in, "Well?"

"Masaki has him. She says he came into the Urahara Shop last night. Apparently he got bitten by a Hollow and gave part of his Spiritual Power to someone else to help him fight."

"Fucking hell," Grimmjow swore, "you'd think after you he'd know better."

"That's not all," Ichigo gritted out, his glare on Grimmjow before his eyes softened as he looked at Hinamori, "he says he had to help her."

"Why don't I think I'm going to like this," she said as Ichigo pulled out the phone he had been talking on and flipped open the screen, "oh my God," Hinamori breathed, her eyes wide.

"What?" Grimmjow looked at the camera, "what are you showing her an old picture of Matsumoto for?"

"It's not old," Ichigo snapped, "that's the girl!"

"But, but she's not Matsumoto," Hinamori said.

"No, see, this is where it gets weird," Ichigo said, "her name is Mitsuki--"

"Wait that's _the_ Suki? The one who broke up with him because 'it didn't feel right'?" Grimmjow demanded, Ichigo nodded, "Gin's gonna kill him."

"Grimmjow!" they both shouted.

"Yes well Oscar said that she has trouble sleeping, that she has dreams of getting stabbed," Ichigo continued as he looked at them, "when she got stabbed and gained part of Gin's Spiritual Power she manifested a Zanpakuto. I didn't manifest Zangetsu until Urahara cut my chain of fate, I had a sealed sword. She manifested a Zanpakuto," Hinamori braced herself, "she manifested _her_ Zanpakuto."

"Didn't you bury her with it?" Grimmjow asked.

"Haineko is an ash Zanpakuto," Hinamori said absentmindedly, "so what are you saying?"

"I'm saying she's had flashes of Gin her whole life," he said, "she just manifested Haineko," he looked at them, "our circumstances have always been strange, we remembered when we died. What if whatever made _us_ remember is making _her _remember?"

"So what you're saying is she's not just Matsumoto's reincarnation, she is Matsumoto," Hinamori stated softly.

"Yes," Ichigo said, his eyes dark with anger, "excuse me."

"Where's he going?" Grimmjow demanded as he stormed out.

"He need some time," she said with a sigh, "and probably to talk to his wife."

About twenty years ago Rukia had told Ichigo of his resemblance to Kaien and why she had saved him all those years ago. To say it had been a fight would be like saying that Hitsugaya could make ice cubes. It had been a disaster of rather epic proportions that only ended when Byakuya and Renji utilized the entire Eleventh Division (the Sixth refused) to bar the warring couple in a room until they worked it out. Ichigo's resemblance Kaien, the fact he acted like Kaien, had always been a rather sore spot for him ever since. Hinamori hoped he went to talk to Rukia; she didn't want to have to walk in on him sleeping in the office again.

"Want me to go talk to the Division?" Grimmjow offered.

"No," Hinamori said, "this is going to come out," she sighed, "I don't want them to hear it from anyone but me."

He shrugged but nodded, following her into the sun. He knew that she had a point, the similarities between the murder and the way Aizen faked his death were undeniable, right down to the part where _she_ found the body. Hands in his pockets he ambled after his Captain, his eyes trying to gauge the mood of the Division members scattered around. The ones who had talked to the man who saw the bastard first and went into hysterics, they were the most obvious, looking at their Captain like she was a time bomb set to go off any minuet. He glared them down; Hinamori had proven herself a hundred times over. She didn't need to have that ruined because some asshole couldn't let the past stay down.

Hitsugaya fell into step beside them seamlessly, his cloak settling from the Shunpo that had taken him to their Division.

"Where's Gin?" he demanded looking at Hinamori.

"Gin is--Gin's in the living world," she said quickly.

"Momo," Hitsugaya said warningly.

"He is!" she cried turning to face him fully.

"Momo you're a terrible liar," he said crossing his arms, "what's Gin doing in the real world."

"Um, well, he's--" she bit her lip, "he's saving Matsumoto's reincarnation, except she manifested Haineko so she may or may not _remember_ things like Matsumoto did so, yes, that's what he's doing," she said in a rush.

The reaction was comical enough to have Grimmjow wiping tears from his eyes. Hitsugaya's eyes went dangerously wide, his lips parting in shock as his jaw came as close to hitting the ground as it ever did. He seemed too shocked to even freeze a drink, much less the sky. Hinamori felt bad, she knew he needed to hear it but still, the last time any of them had seen Matsumoto she had been close to her eventual death.

In the Winter War there had been three people essential to victory. Rangiku Matsumoto had struck the first blow, without even lifting a sword. She had appealed to Gin, not to the buried good inside of him but to all of him. She had made him stop, just for a moment, and think about what he was doing. It was easy to think of Gin as the devious protégé of Aizen Sousuke, not as a threat in his own right. Apparently Aizen saw him that way. That second he hesitated was a second too long in Aizen's eyes. The man had placed him under an illusion; he had made him run Matsumoto through with Shinso and removed the illusion while Gin's Zanpakuto was still through her chest.

What had happened next was nothing short of legend. It took Gin about two minuets to undo centuries of careful planning. He had destroyed Stark and Tousen, wounding Barragan before turning his blade to Aizen. It had been too late; if anger and grief hadn't blinded him he might have stood a shot. As it was Gin managed to cut Aizen but not before the former Captain split him open. More dead than alive, Gin had dragged himself to Matsumoto and collapsed against her. Later he had survived, later he would save them all in the name of the woman he had loved and lost. Rangiku Matsumoto would not survive.

The last player, the one who had struck the final blow against Aizen had been Hinamori herself. In a desperate move Unohana had left Tobiume out where Hinamori would find it before departing for the Winter War. Hinamori had found her Zanpakuto and Tobiume had expressed all the anger, all the hurt, all the sadness, everything Hinamori couldn't. Especially the anger. Tobiume had wanted nothing more than to run Aizen though. Hinamori had gone to the battle to see Gin fall over Matsumoto. She had walked to Aizen, all wide eyes and innocence. Aizen had needed her; he had taken her at his side again and praised her strength even as he killed her friends.

She showed him how strong she was.

She had been close to Bankai before her comatose, but she hadn't wanted to show her Captain until she could perform it well. The sight of people dying, of wanting to protect her friends, it had been the push she needed. She had closed her eyes, unable to see what she was doing. Tobiume had hit home though, burying itself in Aizen's stomach as she seamlessly went into her first Bankai. Aizen had been surprised, of course, but he didn't really know what was coming until she sent enough Spiritual Pressure into him to make sure he was nothing but a vibrant, violet memory not even fit to be called Spirit Particles.

Matsumoto's death had been very hard on Hitsugaya. He had already thought he lost Hinamori and loosing Matsumoto--especially to Gin Ichimaru--had been something he didn't think was possible. He had almost flooded all of Soul Society in his grief until Hinamori had convinced him to let himself feel. She had comforted him. Her death had still left a gaping hole in the 10th Division. Hitsugaya had convinced Nel Tu to become his Vice Captain but no-one could ever forget the old Vice Captain who had saved him as a little white-haired boy so many years ago.

"He's what?!" Hitsugaya cried, his voice echoing off the walls.

"That's what Ichigo said," she said. For a moment Hitsugaya went deathly still, then he turned and walked off, his cloak billowing behind him, "Toshiro!" Hinamori ran after him, "don't say anything!" she shouted over her shoulder at Grimmjow, "Hitsugaya, wait--Toshiro!" she grabbed his arm, drawing level with him.

Of all Soul Society's residents there was one person and one person alone who could call Hitsugaya anything but 'Captain' without consequence and that was Hinamori. Anger was still written all over him, from his hard eyes to the ice creeping up the knuckles of his balled fist. She could see he was going to a place that she didn't know if she could get him out of. It had been fifty years since Matsumoto had died, the open wound was now a scar but re-opening that--she didn't know what that would mean.

"What, Hinamori?" he demanded, his voice tight with pain and hurt.

"We don't know anything yet," she said, struggling to keep her voice calm, "it's almost impossible that she would remember anything after her death."

"Ichigo and the others remembered," he argued, sounding like the petulant child he was not anymore.

"Ichigo and the others have always been, uh, unique," she said, "we _still_ don't know why they remembered, everything says they shouldn't have," she bit her lip, crossing her fingers behind her back.

"But they did," he frowned, for a moment she thought he wouldn't take the bait, "I'm going to talk to Orihime," he said finally.

"Good idea," she said, "I think Ichigo's with Rukia right now but when he comes back I'll talk to him."

He nodded. Inwardly Hinamori breathed a sigh of relief. At the moment the very _last_ thing they needed was for Hitsugaya to go charging off to the real world, especially because Gin Ichimaru managed to land himself in trouble again. Fifty years had closed the distance between the two silver-haired prodigies to the point where the two were basically friends. Hitsugaya may still have been cold as ice and Gin may still have been the most mocking man in Soul Society but the two somehow were able to stand each other. Hinamori was glad of that. She had never been really afraid of Gin and she knew how much Matsumoto had struggled with her loyalty to her Captain and her love for the ruby eyed man. Hinamori may have loved Hitsugaya but she saw too many similarities between herself and Gin to abandon him. Especially after Matsumoto's death she knew the last thing that her friend would have wanted was to see Gin fall prey to his old ways.

She knew that Hitsugaya would go running off to help Gin, just as she knew that Gin would do the same for him. Unfortunately at the moment they needed to stay in Soul Society and deal with the confusion that was about to engulf them. They could not afford to go to pieces and undo all the progress that had been made. She knew Tobiume was getting ready to stop Hitsugaya by force if necessary but her Zanpakuto seemed to have managed to calm Hyourinmaru down enough so that the power surge she had felt building went off.

"Are you alright?" Hitsugaya said finally looked at her.

"Me?" she felt her cheeks heat up, "of course I'm okay," she tried to meet his eyes squarely, to do none of the little 'lie' giveaways she knew of.

"Momo," he said, his voice warning.

"Please," she bit her lip, her eyes giving into their urge and darting around, "I'm okay--" she trailed off when a familiar, calloused hand still wet from the ice that had been creeping up it cupped her chin and turned her face to his, "I don't want this to start again," she said, her voice no more than a whisper, "its been _fifty_ years."

"I know," he said, his own eyes darkening.

"Its not fair," she continued, hating the stinging behind her eyes, "I was the one who was supposed to find him, he died like Aizen faked his death," she took a breath, "I was--I was so calm but all I wanted to do was scream like that man."

Hitsugaya said nothing; he let his actions speak fro him as he closed the distance between them and enveloped his arms around her. He may have grown a lot but she was still small by anyone's standards. Though she could destroy buildings, evil men and Hollows, she barely came up to his shoulders. She didn't mind though, especially not now when he hugged her against him and all she could see, all she could feel, was him. It was like the rest of the world went away.

Though they both knew that Hinamori was more than capable of taking care of herself, sometimes Hitsugaya needed to hold her in his arms. To have her there, to feel her body against his, that was when he knew that she was alright--that _he_ was alright. Though their physical connection he could feel Hyourinmaru reaching out to Tobiume, his Zanpakuto needing reassurance just as his master did.

"It's going to be different," he heard Hinamori whisper into his chest, "I know it's going to be different."

He could only pray that she was right.


	3. The High Priestess

**AN**

**Hello again!! New chapter time. The next one is almost done being written. Renji and Nel get a little, uh, naughty at the end so beware if you don't like that sort of thing. Nothing too citrusy yet...but that's going to change REAL soon.**

**Yeah I should let you all know, I'll try to put warnings up but the fact is while this probably won't have any full fledged lemons its going to be more mature than Silent Force both in violence and in citrus content. I don't want to take it up to M but this is T for a good reason and if that bothers you then please look away. **

**We all know **VioTanequil **kicks ass but lets say it one more time. **

**Oh and there's another note at the bottom I ask you to read. Thanks.**

**An**

After her father had lost his mind and his position, Nemu Kurotsuchi had thought she would simply cease to exist. It had been no surprise that Kisuke Urahara had been commissioned to become the 12th Division Captain once again. Just when she had been packing up her supplies he had walked into the office and asked what she was doing. She told him she was cleaning out her office but if he would like her to leave the supplies she would be more than happy too. He had bluntly told her that his old Vice Captain had told all of Soul Society to effectively 'shove it' and that he needed a Vice Captain. He asked her to stay on as his Vice Captain. She had nothing really better to do so she had accepted his offer and stayed on.

Without every second of her life dictated she began to learn little things about herself that she had never noticed before. Like she didn't _like_ her hair long but rather short, so that it just brushed her shoulders but could still be pulled back. She preferred to rely on her strength rather than her Zanpakuto. She liked color and things that were sweet or spicy but never bland. She'd had enough of quiet, bland and sterile to last a lifetime. She liked things that were bold and strong and made her feel.

And she really liked Ikkaku.

At the moment though she was just worried about how much trouble she was going to get in when Urahara found out what she had done. It had been a struggle to keep her steps smooth but he had been so lost in thought he hadn't noticed the way she practically had to restrain herself from running into the lab. He walked off into his own lab, Yoruichi on his shoulder, as Nemu walked into hers. She put her notepad on the table and quickly put the bag she was carrying down, undoing the tie and pulling out the caramel colored cat inside.

The cat grinned at her, obviously pleased with himself and raced up her arm to curl around her neck and shoulders. Hers were not as broad as Urahara's so he had to lie across both of them, like a living scarf. But they were in the lab now and no-one had to know she had just snuck Urahara and Yoruichi's son into a secret meeting.

"You've got an expression on," she scolded looking at him, "it's a give away."

"That was awesome!" he cried, not bothering with wiping the grin off his face, "did you see how long I stayed like this?! I _knew_ cutting class would come in handy!"

"Yes, perhaps if you stayed in class more you'd do better," she said, remembering the Elders of the Shihouin House screaming at the boy's less-than-stellar report card.

"School," he rolled his eyes, "it's _boring_, its all 'learn this' and 'do that'. I've been killing Hollows since I was a kid," he jumped off her shoulder and onto the bookcase, "I'm too cool for school."

"You're what?" she arched an eyebrow at the language he was using.

"Its an expression," he said, "I heard it the last time I was hanging with Oscar," he slipped down the bookshelf and onto her desk, "school's lame," he studied one of the beakers, "lets blow something up!"

"Lets not," she responded instantly as a knock on her door sounded, "just a minuet!"

Kohaku jumped off the table and transformed mid-air, landing on the ground in a heap of black robes and gawky limbs. He shoved himself up, sending a glare in her direction as she smothered her laugh. He was young by Soul Society standards, about the age of a young teenager. He had his father's messy blond hair and his mother's amber eyes, though he kept threatening to concoct something to dye his hair purple. Nemu would make something herself if she could see the elder's faces when their precious heir showed up for his deportment lessons with purple hair.

"Come in!" she called. The door opened to reveal Urahara and Yoruichi, the latter in her human form, "Captain Urahara, Yoruichi," she bowed quickly.

"So," Yoruichi walked over to her son, "you managed to retain cloths this time."

"Yeah," he said offhandedly, "in case I lost the form I didn't want to flash the Captains and--" he froze, realizing what he said as Yoruichi gave a knowing grin, "damn it!"

"I am the Commander of the Special Forces," she said, "I'd be pretty bad at my job if I couldn't find my own son," her eyes became serious, "you can't tell anyone what you know."

"No way," he said.

"Gin went missing in the Real World last night," Urahara broke in, "can you get in touch with Oscar?"

"Uh, sure," he said with a shrug, "the Real World's kind of big though."

"He went missing in Karakura Town," he said.

"Oh, sure, hold on--" he patted himself down before he stopped, "crap."

"Kohaku--" Yoruichi said warningly.

"Sorry it's just, Oscar tired to call me during one of Uncle Byakuya's lessons and he took away my phone," he sighed, "he still has it."

"I see," Yoruichi said crossing her arms, "go get it."

"On it!" he ran forward.

"As a human!" she shouted after him.

**Break**

"Do you have any _idea_ what your grandson did today?" came the seething demand.

Sado Yasutora looked up through the lenses of his glasses at his wife of fifty years and shook his head. Whatever Oscar had done was clearly not good and he hoped the boy knew what he was doing since Karin Yasutora was just about the most frightening person in _any_ world when she was angry. And at the moment she was very angry.

Fifty years of living had turned both their hair mostly grey and put lines on their faces where they previously had none. Of all the Ryoka and the Espada who had been given the choice to either remain dead or be stripped of their powers and become human, only Sado had chosen the latter. Most of his friends had found their loves amongst the dead, he happened to have found her among the living. So he did the only thing that made sense after spending years charging after everyone else's loved ones--he went and charged after his own.

He had seen the world and he had a family. There had been good times and bad. The worst had been the death of his son and his son's wife. No Hollows, no bad guys, just a man with a car who had taken two very precious people from the world. The only survivor of the terrible accident had been his first grandchild, Oscar. And just like that, Sado found history repeating himself as the youngest Yasutora came to live with his grandparents.

At the moment, Sado couldn't help but wonder how much longer the young man would be living.

"What did he do?" he asked finally, taking the bait.

"My niece just called. Apparently Oscar decided to skip class and go over to the Urahara shop, bringing his ex girlfriend with him," Sado said nothing, "it's the middle of the day! He misses enough school for legitimate reasons; he doesn't need to be missing it for a--a--whatever this is."

"Maybe it's important," Sado said finally.

"Important?" Karin demanded, "if it was important he would have used a gigai and stayed in class!"

"You know Chappy takes terrible notes," Sado said, "and the last time he used Kon we had meetings with the school board for a month."

"Even so," she put her hands on her hips.

Sado saw her anger wane and decided to help his grandson out. He stood and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her still petite body. They both may have been older and grey but sometimes when he looked at her he would see "Ichigo's Little Sister" who he had saved from the Hollows that day in the park and who thought that he was the lamest giant she had ever seen.

"Let's go over to Masaki's and figure this out," he said.

"Alright," she sighed, "but he's still grounded."

It was better than what Oscar was sure of which was that his grandmother was going to kill him. Even his grandfather wasn't stupid enough to get in her way. He'd take grounded any day over that. Of course it didn't help matters that he deserved it. He shouldn't have gone to the Urahara Shop and certainly not in the middle of the day but the situation was just too weird. For one, Ichimaru Gin was there. Oscar had seen the 3rd Division Captain a handful of times and every time it didn't fail to amaze him just how awesome he was. Unfortunately he also happened to be in the same room with Suki and the two of them kept glancing at each other like they knew the other from somewhere. Which was ridiculous because Gin was about two hundred years old and Mitsuki was a teenager like him. So he was doing the one thing he could think to do.

He was trying to get in touch with Kohaku.

Unfortunately Kohaku didn't seem to want to answer his phone which was pissing Oscar off. They had gone through the trouble to get some kind of inter-world communication but if he didn't pick up his phone then it kind of defeated the purpose.

Because Soul Society was so short handed in the wake of the Winter War and the death of all the Ryoka and the stripping of Sado's powers, there had been a need for protection in Karakura Town and the Kurosaki family had been happy to help. It was easy to forget that Karin and Yuzu were half Shinigami too. But they were and they had proven themselves more than competent Soul Reapers. Sado had eventually regained _some_ Spiritual Power but the two girls had been more than capable.

Isshin had finally given up his human body and gone back to Soul Society. Yuzu had eventually married Jinta and their daughter, Masaki had been born. When she was an adult she had taken over the Urahara Shop. Karin and Sado got married young and had a lot of kids, most of whom were off elsewhere in the world. Only their eldest, Chad, had stayed in Japan and he had died and Oscar Yasutora had come into their care. Before long he was participating in the family business, having been trained by his (great) Uncle Ichigo after saying his _Abuela_ was crazy. He didn't know the meaning of the word. He had been to Soul Society once. Kohaku snuck out a _lot_. The two of them had somehow become friends, amused at how different and yet similar their lives were.

"Damn it, pick up the ph--" the connection went through, "Kohaku!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry--but this is your fault you know! If you didn't call me when I was in lessons with Uncle Byakuya he wouldn't have taken away my phone," Kohaku snapped, "so, is Ichimaru-taicho with you?"

"Yes."

"And Suki?"

"Uh huh,"" he turned to see Gin walk over and extend his hand, "uh, Kohaku, hold on," he passed him the phone.

"Kohaku?" Gin spoke into the phone.

"Ichimaru-taicho!" Kohaku sucked in his breath, "hold on, I've got my dad right here," he practically threw the phone at Urahara.

"Gin," Urahara said.

"Urahara, what the hell is going on there?" Gin demanded, not bothering with being mocking, "I can't get through to anyone."

"I know, I know," Urahara sighed, "the Commander General and his Vice Captain are dead," he said, "they were pinned to the 5th Division Tower and left for Hinamori to find. Their Zanpakuto's shikais were enacted but the blades themselves are missing."

"Fuck," Gin swore, clenching his fist, "can you get to Halibel?"

"Yes," Urahara said, "why do you need to talk to her?"

"The only people who would do something like that are people still loyal to Aizen. Halibel is the highest ranking of the former Espada. If anyone has any idea who's doing this it's her," he said.

"Right, hold on," Urahara tossed the phone to Yoruichi who caught it mid-air and was gone.

"Yes?" Halibel snapped into the phone.

"I need you to get a list of every unaccounted for Espada," he said, matching her business-like tone, "talk to Sun Sun and get a list of every unaccounted for Fraccion. Anyone else you can think of who would have done this."

"I understand," Halibel said, hanging up the phone and tossing it back to Yoruichi, "Sun Sun!" she shouted.

"Yes?!" the 3rd Seat raced into the room, green hair streaming behind her like a banner, "Captain?"

"I need you to go to Dondochakka, make a list of all the Fraccion you saw die and any that you aren't sure are dead," she bobbed in conformation before running off to find Dondochakka, "Hisagi!" the Vice Captain hurried inside, "find Ulquiorra, Neliel and Grimmjow--I don't care _what_ Grimmjow is doing--and tell them to meet me at the 5th Division Tower," he nodded and hurried off to do the task.

"Do you think it could be an Espada?" Yoruichi asked.

"Perhaps. It would make the most sense, even if most of them have been accounted for," Halibel continued, "or someone close to Aizen. I think an Espada is the best assumption at the moment," she pulled on her Captain's robe, "its got to be someone who stands to gain from doing this the way they did it. Someone who wants to finish what Aizen started. Otherwise they would have just killed them another w--" she stopped, "are you--"

The Commander of the Special Forces had already crumpled to the ground.

"Yoruichi!"

**Break**

Nel stepped out of the shower, tightening the towel wrapped around her frame. Her quarters in the 10th Division seemed, somehow, cold all of a sudden, despite catching a good amount of the steam from the shower she had just been inside. She walked over to the small table and picked up a wooden comb, beginning the work of un-knotting her hair. As she did she looked at a handful of the green locks in her hand, her mind flashing to the sight of Renji standing next to Byakuya, his hair falling around his shoulders unbound. She tugged on her hair, hacking at a particularly vicious knot as she tried to ground herself with the pain.

It wasn't working.

She had pushed Renji away. He had wanted something 'more' than what they had. Their relationship had been tentative and hesitant, both still trying to figure the other out. He had tried to coax her into it, gently, like she was a scared animal and she had almost let him. Then she had remembered Nnoitra, she remembered the feelings she had for him and how _that_ had ended. So she did the only thing she could think and shoved him away. If she listened to the traitorous voice in her head she would acknowledge that she was afraid. Afraid that they _could_ have what he wanted, what she, if she listened, wanted as well. So she pushed him away and the real bitch of it was that he let her. He didn't fight for her and so what they had died eventually. Unfortunately it was only _after_ they had shoved each other away that the two realized that their feelings for each other might have run deeper than they thought.

She dropped the comb once her hair was to it perfection and pulled open the drawer, extracting a hair tie. Her fingertip brushed against the white headband lying in the drawer. She yanked the hair tie out and slammed the drawer shut, yanking her hair into a ponytail with equally vicious force. She threw her cloths on, tying knots as hard as she could, not even caring if she ripped the fabric. She knew that Renji had been avoiding her. She knew he was probably hurt and thinking of her--or she hoped he was, the traitorous voice whispered-so she couldn't grudge him that. Squaring her shoulders she dropped the comb and walked over to the door, pulling it open and stopping.

On the other side Renji stood, his hair still unbound across his shoulders. She swallowed thickly, her eyes wide.

"Renji," she looked at him, "what do you want?"

His eyes bore into hers though his lips remained silent. Immediately she felt her pulse speed up as he stepped fully to the edge of her door, still towering over her. Her tongue darted out along her bottom lip, trying to find moisture in her suddenly dry mouth. Renji's eyes continued to bore into her, sweeping over her form as Nel fought the urge to clutch her robe more closed.

"Renji," she said, meaning for her voice to be rough and angry but instead it came out almost pleading as she felt her body heat in response to his gaze, "Renji," she repeated before she suddenly found herself pressed against his chest and quite unable to speak for real. It had been almost thirty years since they had done anything and what they had done, it hadn't been anything like what Grimmjow and Soifon did. Suddenly she found all her senses filled with the red haired Vice Captain, "I--"

"Stop talking," he whispered, his voice rough and filled with something almost primal as one of his hands slid around the back of her neck. Her lips parted as he pulled her up, his lips crushing against hers as his tongue deepened the kiss. Nel felt all the strength flee from her lips as a moan forced itself from her throat. The sound only seemed to egg him on as his fingers made quick work of her hair tie, letting the weight of her hair fall around her head as his fingers threaded through it, "you've been tormenting me," he accused, his voice rough and heated as he worked his way down her neck, her head falling to the side to allow him better access, "I can't think of anything but you."

"I--" she whimpered as he bit the sensitive skin behind her ear and all her excuses died, "I can't love you," she gasped out, the sentence contradicted by the small sounds he was forcing from her lips, "God I can't."

"I don't care," he growled into her skin.

"But--but you deserve someone--" she moaned, "someone bett--"

"I don't want anyone else," he cut in before she could degrade herself, "all I want is you."

She thought to protest, to shove him back, but she couldn't bring herself too. Her limbs were boneless and the thought of pushing him away was unfathomable. So she buried her fingers in his red hair, her legs locking around his waist as he wrapped his arms around her. She couldn't love him, he deserved better, she pushed him away, he didn't fight for her. There were a million reasons they shouldn't be together. Even so, their 'relationship' had always been about the promise of the future, about second chances... So even if she couldn't love him, even if he didn't fight for her when he should have, apparently that didn't mean it was over.

Not by a long shot.

**AN**

**Hey, sorry to do this (again) but I just wanted to clear up a few things about the new characters.**

**Kohaku Urahara is Yoruichi and Kisuke's son. He can turn into a cat like his mom and is a trouble maker like both his parents. **

**Its been fifty years since the HM arc. I always saw Karin and Sado having a big family fairly young. Therefore Oscar is their grandson who lives with them. His father Chad was killed in a car accident. He looks like Sado but acts like Karin. He's a Substitute Shingiami who was mentored by his great uncle Ichigo.**

**Oscar and Kohaku are good friends and communicate via an interworld cell phone.**

**Nel and Renji are not in love. They broke up and at the moment are...uh...being naughty.**

**Thats it for now. See you soon**

**AN**


	4. The Empress

**AN**

**Good morning all! (or whenever, its morning where I am.) Here's the next chapter! Um, yeah...no I really have nothing important to say. The purpose of this message is, as always, to tell you that **VioTanequil **totally rocks my socks! Yes! I'm wearing socks because its colder here! I said last time that if I was wearing them, **VioTanequil** would rock them. Now I am, and yeah, they're being rocked by my awesome Beta Reader!**

**AN**

Grimmjow Jeagerjaques fucking hated Ichigo Kurosaki at the moment, something that happened less and less as time had gone on. It only really happened now when his co-Vice Captain did something particularly stupid--like ship off to "angst land" and leave him with a fucking mound of paperwork. Apparently the Commander General dying didn't mean the world ended, at least not right away. The 5th Division had survived worse and it would continue too and that meant paperwork, usually only 1/2 of which he had to do. But his co-Vice Captain had shoved off and he was stuck with it which meant he was late getting home. He could have just stayed at the 5th Division, he did have a set of rooms there, but the place wasn't anywhere he'd want to stay.

Ignoring the whispers around Soul Society and the murmured greetings he walked to the Captain of the 2nd Division's quarters and unlocked them, slipping inside. He remembered his first entrance into the apartment after his sparring/make out session with Soifon when their relationship had gone barrelling forward. Back then the apartment had been a frighteningly clean almost sterile place, no indication of the woman that lived in it. That hadn't lasted very long. So the furniture didn't exactly stay in one place and the apartment on a whole was rather messy, it was home for both of them.

He wouldn't change it for the fucking world.

Walking into the semi-dark apartment he knew Soifon was probably in bed. He'd seen Hinamori swaying on her feet and imagined she was just as exhausted if not more so. He walked into the bedroom and confirmed his suspicion. Her back was to him. Moonlight spilled through the windows, illuminating the curve of her shoulder, the slope of her cheek but leaving most of her in darkness. For a moment Grimmjow was content to stand there, to drink in the teasing glimpses the moonlight gave him. That was not enough for long though. He pulled off his Shinigami robes and exchanged them for a loose pair of western-style pajama pants. Silently he padded over to the bed and lay down next to her. She was wearing a leopard print tank top and a pair of pajama pants he was positive had once belonged to him.

He leaned over and pressed his lips to the skin right behind her ear, her black hair tickling his cheekbone. She shifted but didn't wake. He pressed his lips lower, kissing a trail down her neck to her shoulder, his fingers slipping the strap of her tank top down to expose the skin. His eyes went to her face. Her features remained relaxed but he saw her eyes no longer shifted in sleep, her bottom lip was drawn in just enough so he could see she was biting the inside. He replaced the tank top strap he had slipped down and laid next to her, propping his head up on one hand as his other slid half under the bottom part of her tank top, laying his palm fully against the skin of her abdomen. He followed the curve, starting at her back and around the curve of her hips to the front where his calloused fingers trailed up to encircle her bellybutton before dragging lower, slipping under the waistband of her (well his) sweat pants. He bent his head to the curve of her ear.

"I know you're awake Shaolin," he whispered.

She made a half-hearted sound of confirmation, her legs spreading under his well practiced fingers.

"You're late," she gasped out, making no move to turn around.

"Fucking paperwork," he grumbled, "Worried about me?"

"No," she said. He grinned and nibbled her earlobe.

"Liar," he accused as her body arched against his before she vanished and he found himself on his back, his hands pinned above his head and Soifon straddling his lower body.

"If you couldn't take care of yourself, I'd have gotten rid of you decades ago," she told him, her cheeks still flushed with the effects of his earlier actions, "Weak men bore me."

"Good thing I'm not weak then," he smirked as her finger dragged down the skin of his forearms to brace her palms against his chest. He pushed himself up on his forearms, his lips curving into his trademark feral grin, "Or boring," Her eyes narrowed as one eyebrow arched upwards, "And neither are you, of course," he added quickly.

"Good answer," she said shoving him back as her teeth scraped against the skin of his cheek, eliciting a hiss from his clenched teeth, his fingers digging into the fabric of her (his) sweat pants.

"Thief," he accused, his fingers finding the ties, "You leave me no choice but to reclaim what's mine."

"You want them back," she grinned, pulling back fractionally, "You're gonna have to take them."

"Is that a challenge?" he asked as she pressed their bodies together harder, squishing the fabric between them as she smirked in response.

"Only if you're up for it," she said, "I know what a," her grin widened until it almost matched his, "sore loser you are," she finished.

"Oh, I'll show you sore," he growled flipping her onto her back as she wrapped her arms around him.

**Break**

"Vice Capt--"

"Not now!" Nanao barked shoving past the man and his stupid forms as she slammed the book on her desk.

She hadn't seen Shunsui since the fateful meeting and she couldn't feel his Spiritual Pressure. Even if she didn't want to admit it, she was worried; worried enough not to care about the man in her face with the paperwork she usually cared about. She grabbed the small case she kept in her desk and slid it into her sleeve next to her sealed Zanpakuto before she tore out of the division. She tried to resist using Kido, knowing she was going to have to go slower if she was to be successful in finding her errant Captain. The best place she could figure to start was the Thirteenth Division. She raced all the way there, not seeing any sign of him en route. She flew into the Captain's office only to see Ukitake standing there tidying his desk.

"Vice Captain Nanao?" he inquired softly, "Are you--"

"Is he here?" she gasped out, not bothering with formality.

"No," he said, his brow furrowing, "I was under the impression he was at the Division."

"He's--he's not there," she told him.

"Jushiro," Unohana stepped into the main room before her eyes landed on Nanao, "Vice Captain Nanao," she said, her gentle smile on her lips, "What's wrong?"

"I can't find him," she said, not even bothering to tell her who _he_ was, "I thought he would be here--"

"He told us he was going to be at his Division," she said, her eyes darting to Ukitake.

"He's not," Nanao said, her voice barely more than a whisper, "I have to find him," she turned, "excuse me," she tore out of the Division.

She ran as fast as she could across the rooftops, her eyes searching desperately for the sight of her Captain. Where was he? His teacher had just died, she knew that despite his laid-back attitude he really cared for him and how he had been killed--it was nothing short of disgraceful. Killing someone with their Zanpakuto's initial release was insulting to begin with but then to take their Zanpakuto… That was an insult beyond forgiveness. Even if she didn't always agree with Yamamoto, she didn't think anyone deserved that kind of death. But that was exactly what he had gotten. Unohana and Ukitake were obviously finding comfort in each other, but what about Shunsui? Where was he? What was he finding comfort in?

"Shunsui, where are you?" she whispered looking around as she quickened her pace, "w--" the words died on her lips as she rounded the corner to the last place on earth she would expect him to be. She hesitated before realizing it was rather perfect for him to be in.

The Kyouraku Mansion.

Well, not the Mansion specifically but rather the guest houses behind it. There were a few, one had its windows open and she thought she could see someone moving inside. Swallowing thickly she shunpoed to the door, offering him the courtesy of not hiding her Spiritual Pressure. She reached up and knocked on the door. She heard the movement stop as he considered her silent request before she finally heard the door click open to reveal her errant Captain.

"Shunsui what th--" the demand died on her lips.

Her Captain looked horrible. She had seen him with crippling hangovers and still look better than he did at the moment. His face was tight with emotion, his eyes furious. His Zanpakuto was at his waist, one of the blades in its holster, the other grasped in his hand. In his other hand she saw the locks of his hair that made up the ponytail he usually wore. Her eyes went from the hair to his Zanpakuto to his face.

"Shunsui," she looked up at him, "what are you doing?"

"You know," he said, stepping into the cottage, offering her a silent invitation to join him which she accepted, closing the door behind her, "I could have stopped this all, years ago. The night Shinji and the others were attacked, I vouched for Aizen. I thought I saw him, I told them that I saw him," he dropped the hair into the wastebasket, ornament, tie and all, "and now look at us."

"What Aizen did is not your fault," she said stepping forward.

"What about now?" he chuckled humorlessly, "what about what he's doing now?"

"This isn't Aizen's doing!" she cried, "Aizen's dead! We've proven that a million times over. This is some sick, twisted man who wants us to _think_ he's Aizen," she grasped his shoulder, "We need you--" she bit her lip, "Shunsui I need you."

He turned his head to face her. She reached up and pulled her glasses off, looking at him even though the world went foggy around the edges. Her hand slid up his unshaven cheek, toying with the edge of his hair as she silently begged her Captain to find the strength Yamamoto had seen in him, the strength she _knew_ he had. He closed his eyes as her fingers toyed with the edges of his hair. He looked so vulnerable. She knew that Yamamoto had been more like a father to him than his own father had ever been. She smiled gently, carefully, her arms slipping easily around his shoulders as she laid her head on his chest and hugged him. She felt him stiffen slightly but relax after a heartbeat, his arms hesitantly slipping around her waist and pulling her closer to him.

"I need a drink," he muttered after a moment.

"What you need," she said glaring up at him icily, "is a proper haircut."

"Nanao," he wined.

"I can't have my Captain going around looking like you do at the moment," she said picking up his Zanpakuto and shoving it into the sheath at his waist, "come on--Shunsui?" he pulled her into another hug.

"In a minute," he said, his voice soft.

"A-alright," she said, forcing her muscles to relax and simply enjoying the feeling of him hugging her.

**Break**

"Someone help!"

Halibel landed in the Fourth Division, trying desperately to ignore the agony that was searing through her skin where it touched Yoruichi's. When Yoruichi had crumpled, Halibel had picked her in a fireman's carry over her shoulders and taken off for the Fourth Division. When she hit the Eighth Division, the pain had started. Her haori was already soaked through with blood, her own mingling with Yoruichi's. The world was rapidly dimming in her agony but she couldn't let the other woman go. Somehow she felt that if she did not share the agony, then Yoruichi was going to die. She felt people thunder around her as her knee buckled, cracking against the tile as she fought to stay conscious.

"Get Orihime," she through hissed gritted teeth, "Orihime!" she shouted when no-one moved.

"Move! Get out of my way! Halibel!" the sunset haired woman shoved people aside with surprising force, dropping to her knees in front of the Captain, "what happened?"

"She dropped," Halibel said, not quite managing to contain the cry of agony on her lips, "I ran here," she inhaled sharply, "she started to get cut on the way."

"Yoruichi!" Orihime's head flew up as Urahara Kisuke raced into the room, his eyes landing on his wife. They widened in horror and recognition, "Nemu! Get Kohaku out of here! NOW!" he bellowed at his Vice Captain who grabbed his son.

"NO!" they all heard her son's shout as his Vice Captain used her strength to pull the fighting young man away, "No! Dad? What's going on?! Mom! MOM!!"

Urahara ran to where the three of them were, his eyes assessing the situation and the helplessness in the two women's eyes. He practically ripped off his Captain's robe, dropping the garment to the ground next to him as he crouched near Halibel's side, his hand hovering over Yoruichi.

"We don't know what's happening," Orihime said.

"I do," he said, his eyes flickering to her and then back to his wife, they were wide with a combination of horror and disbelief, "Orihime," he didn't look away from Yoruichi, "use your shield."

"_Santen Kesshun_," she said, quickly directing the glowing shield over Yoruichi, "I reject!"

Urahara hooked his hands under Yoruichi's arms and gently pulled her from Halibel's shoulders. The Ninth Division Captain fell to all fours, unable to stop the cry that was torn from her lips. The cuts began to leave ripples on the surface of the shield but remained from Yoruichi and Halibel. Urahara pulled his wife onto his lap, bracing her against his chest. He balled the fabric of his robe up and pressed it against the tattered skin. Yoruichi moaned, her fingers digging into his knee. Urahara pressed a kiss to her temple, his lips forming sounds of comfort to his wife. The cuts on the shield slowly started to dissipate before vanishing all together. He nodded at Orihime who withdrew the shield. The cuts remained away.

"Alright," he said, "use y--"

A sickening cry of agony was torn from Yoruichi's lips as her body twisted in her husband's embrace. Blood poured from her in an unstoppable flow, soaking both her husband and her. Urahara tightened his grip on her.

"Orihime!" he shouted, "heal!"

"_Soten Kisshun! _I reject!" she all but screamed. Shun'o and Ayame locked into place, the golden glow enveloping Yoruichi. Slowly the gathered audience watched as slivers of metal drifted out of the Special Force's Head's chest and vanished into the air. The wounds began to knit together.

Out of the corner of her eye Orihime saw Halibel convulse once, as though her body was being taken over. Her eyes widened in what could have been taken as surprise--and maybe it was--before they drifted shut. For a moment she was frozen in that position. Her lips parted as blood spilled from them before the Ninth Division Captain collapsed, boneless, to the floor. Blood began to pool in a sickening puddle around her, being pumped out by the steady beat of her heart. Orihime looked desperately at Yoruichi, trying to see when her wounds were past the point of fatality as the puddle of blood around Halibel stopped growing, showing there was nothing left to circulate it through her body. She knew she could bring back the dead but only to a point and that point was rapidly being reached. She saw Yoruichi's eyes flutter open softly and withdrew the shield immediately, throwing it over Halibel.

It was hard, harder than healing Yoruichi. She knew it would be. Though they were Shinigami there were a few remnants of their former lives as Espada and one of them was a certain resistance to her healing. Closing her eyes tightly she focused on pushing as much of her Spiritual Pressure into the shield as she could, forcing metal from Halibel's body and her skin to knit together before finally forcing life back into the deadened form. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime spent still on the floor Halibel's body jerked, curling forward around itself before the former Espada rolled onto her back and lay still, the gentle rise and fall of her chest the only indication that she was alive at all.

"What was that?!" Orihime cried, looking at Urahara.

"That was Yoruichi's Shikai," he said looking at his wife before he bent down and picked her up, "whoever has Yamamoto's Zanpakuto has hers as well."

"Captain Urahara, if you'll follow me, I need to examine your wife," Unohana said motioning him after her, "Captain Halibel--" she looked at the still form of the Ninth Division Captain.

"I will take her."

Orihime's eyes widened as everyone realized that Kuchiki Byakuya had been standing near the front of the crowd the entire time. Though the crowd had dispersed somewhat he had remained standing there, his eyes watching the healing. Heedless of the blood that stained his tabi he walked forward until he was standing next to Halibel's body. He knelt down, ignoring the blood that quickly darkened the hem of his haori. His eyes dragged over her form. To anyone else it looked as though he was assessing how best to carry her without jostling her remaining wounds. Finally he slipped a hand under the space right under her shoulder blades and another under her knees, rising to his feet, his motions careful and smooth.

Still, the movement was felt by Halibel though who inhaled sharply, turning her face into Byakuya's robe. His eyes widened as he looked down at the woman in his arms. Orihime saw his control fracture for a split second. Inwardly, she wondered when the last time Byakuya had held a woman like that was, not counting Rukia of course. Probably not since Hisana. The poor Kuchiki Head seemed almost paralyzed at the fact he was holding a woman in his arms, a woman who was not his sister, who was seeking comfort in his arms. She saw him swallow thickly, the hand around Halibel's knee tightened fractionally before his features composed themselves and he turned around to walk down the hallway after Unohana.

Orihime wondered if anyone else had seen the way Byakuya's hands had shaken slightly in fear or the way his eyes had only been focused on Halibel's face.


	5. The Emperor

Ulquiorra had always been a rather analytical person. His mind was good at supplying theories and answers long before his lips could form them. Sometimes he wasn't right but his answers were usually a lot closer to the truth than anyone preceding them.

So why was nothing coming to him?

In his hand he held the marker he had used to list their names and the most obvious things--the name of their Shikai and whether or not they were dead. Understandably he had left his Zanpakuto back in his apartment. He popped the cap off the marker and looked at the board before stopping and letting out a frustrated breath.

"Ulqui!" Lily landed on his shoulder, inspecting the board, "any ideas?"

"No," he admitted looking at the fairy.

Of all the fairies the pink haired Lily had taken a special liking to him. The _Shun Shun Rikka_ were all capable of passing messages telepathically. Lily usually was the one who delivered messages from the rest of them. At the moment she was the one keeping company as he had barricaded himself in an unused training room and set up a white board to try and figure out what the common thread was. Obviously whoever had done this had been trying to kill Yoruichi the same way they had Yamamoto. Without Orihime, Halibel and Urahara he had no doubt that the purple haired woman would be dead. Although she had survived the fact was that her Zanpakuto was also gone and most likely being put to the same point and purpose.

"This makes no sense," the fairy said jumping off his shoulder to the board, "what do _they _have in common?" she demanded pointing to the three names on the board.

"They're both powerful," he said, "their Zanpakutos are both gone," he sighed, "but even Yoruichi wasn't in Yamamoto's league," he bit back the desire to swear, "This makes no sense," he agreed finally, loathing the defeat that swelled inside him.

"Alright," Soifon walked into the old training room, "put them there."

Two men dropped six large boxes on his desk. He frowned and walked over to his Captain as the two men exited.

"What is this?" he asked picking up one of the files.

"This is a running record of Yoruichi, Yamamoto and Chojiro," she said pointing to each box as she said the name it corresponded too, "as well as the three prime candidates for the next Commander General, Unohana, Ukitake and Kyouraku."

"I see," he looked at her squarely, "Captain, how do we know who the next Commander General is?"

"We don't," she said finally, dismissing the two men and making sure the door was closed, "The older Captains were personally trained by Yamamoto but they were very young at the time of the last Commander General and Yamamoto left no record of how he was chosen to take the man before his place," her eyes flickered to the board where he had written the names, "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to figure out what the pattern is," he said nodding to the board, "to try and see whose next."

"Good plan," she said with approval, "do you have anything?"

"Not yet," he said as they both walked closer to the board, as though it could aide them, "I fear we do not have enough information to make a sufficient pattern yet," he ran a hand through his coal locks, hating the frustration in him.

"I see," Soifon said, he could hear the disappointment in her voice and even though he knew it was not directed at him he could not help but wish he could find the solution to solve their problem. She looked over at him, "I'm giving Orihime a guard detail," she said after a moment.

"You're doing what?!" he demanded turning to face her, "Why was I not informed of this?"

"I'm informing you now," she said turning to face him as well, "Obviously your duties here will keep you here during the day and hers will keep her at the Fourth. She was a target last time and I don't know if she's going to be again but that is not a risk I'm willing to take. Especially not when she refuses to use her offensive techniques."

"She's a pacifist," he said, his voice defensive.

"Yes and that is very useful in war," Soifon snapped, "She's getting a guard detail as is Hinamori Momo."

"We don't know what this man is capable of," Ulquiorra said, "what if he compromises your guard? Who is on it?"

"Shunkou specialists," she said, "two for each of them."

About ten years after the Winter War had been won, after many years of training and no small amount of help from Urahara Kisuke, Yoruichi and Soifon had managed to perfect the technique of Shunkou into a usable, trainable fighting system. Though the two remained the undefeated champions (their current sparring match had been running nine and a half years), they were able to teach enough people to their satisfaction to have a group of Shunkou specialists. Unidentifiable from the rest of the Special Forces or the 2nd Division, they were people who did not rely on their Zanpakutos but rather exclusively on Shunkou. They were formidable opponents and while Ulquiorra trusted them in the battlefield this was Orihime they were talking about.

"I want an open line of communications with them," he said, "Orihime never goes to her apartment in the 4th Division, I will be her guard at night."

"We're going to decoy in her apartment," she said, "we don't know if this man is watching us or not but there's a good chance he is."

"I see," he said after a moment's contemplation, "Vice Captain Ise Nanao should also have a guard."

"Why?"

"Its plain to anyone with eyes that her Captain cares for her and she, on some level, reciprocates his feelings. The easiest way to get to him would be through her and while this madman hasn't tried that yet, it is not a stretch of the imagination to think he would."

"Good idea," she said, "I'll send her one," she nodded to him and turned to go.

"There is one more thing, Captain," he said.

"Why don't I think I'm going to like this," Soifon muttered before turning around, "What is it?"

"I think we should, discreetly, send someone to the living world."

"That's impossible right now," Soifon said, "We're in lock down, no inter-world travel. That's why Gin's stranded."

"Yes," he said, "But we need to talk to Urahara about finding a way around that, I know it can be done," he looked at her, "We need to send someone to the living world to locate the whereabouts of the Vizards. Whoever this is, they are connected to Aizen and it would not be a stretch to say they are either an Espada or have managed to gain the power to become an Espada now that we, the remaining ones, are not anymore. We may have adjusted to our abilities, but our powers are not what they were when we were Espada. We need people who can fight on this man's level and we do not have them in Soul Society."

"You're right," Soifon said, her voice revealing the hurt pride he was sure all of Soul Society shared, "We can't afford another war, not like the Winter War," she sighed, "Stay here, figure out what you can, I'm going to talk to Captain Urahara."

"Understood," he said turning back to the white board as his Captain departed.

"That was so cool Ulqui," Lily cried from his shoulder, "You sounded so tough," she punched the air to emphasize her point, "A real go--" she stopped and cocked her head to the side, listening to a conversation Ulquiorra could not hear, "Orihime wants to know why there are two men following her."

"Tell her that they're her guard detail," he said.

"Mm kay," the fairy closed her eyes and communicated the message before turning to him, "She says 'okay' and to give you this," she pecked her fairy lips to Ulquiorra's cheek, "And that she'll see you back home."

Ulquiorra nodded his understanding and turned back to the white board, once again trying to discover the pattern it was concealing. One of his hands slipped into the pocket in his hamaka's, his fingers toying with the small object concealed there as if that too, could help him.

**Break**

Nel reached up to find the book she needed to continue her research. She grasped her prize and placed it in her arms, her other hand holding the list of what she needed to find for her Captain.

A warm, broad chest was suddenly pressed against her back. She bit her lip as the tightly bound side of Renji's head was against her own hair. She stood still and strait, her fingers digging into the list she held in her hand, anticipating sliding through her at what he was about to do. He wouldn't really--not in the middle of the archives--not in broad daylight.

"I have work to do," she said, her voice pleasingly steady as she put the list on the books and made to turn.

"Do you?" his chest pressed against hers, moving smoothly and preventing her from turning. A calloused hand slid across her own, cutting off her attack before she could perform it. The inky covered hand guided her hand up to the opening of her robe, trailing across the glimpse of collarbone her robe afforded the world before sliding down to her side, his hand remaining on hers. Her palm fell open on the robe as Renji's lips pressed against her ear, his breath sending shivers down the exposed skin it touched before his head slipped around to her other side, her head moving obediently to the side as Renji's lips barely touched the skin of her earlobe, his other hand reaching up to touch the skin of her cheek, guiding her head towards him as he continued the feather light contact between them. It was torture, as Nel bit her lip, her hand still cupped by his clenched in the folds of her robe as her head leaned back, turning towards him, "Nel," he whispered her name against her ear, the heat in her body skyrocketing at the throaty whisper of her name, the words as light as the caresses he was giving her.

The books slammed to the ground as she shoved him back against the bookshelves opposite them, her lips claiming his with a million times more force than he had shown her moments earlier. She dragged her nails across his chest, following the lines of his tattoos as though she had memorized them. The thought was an incredible turn on, the thought she had watched him, she had remembered the inky lines that caressed most of his body. She as definitely _not_ caressing him. She was claiming him as roughly as any animal would mark their mate. She was dominating him (not that he was really complaining) like a predator. Hands pinned, her body pressed up against his, he kissed her back with the same hunger she kissed him. Zabimaru and Gamuza's pommels clinked together, the sound of cloth-wrapped metal hitting each other were punctuated with the desperate breaths they stole between their oral battle for dominance.

"Hey Renji, what the hell are you--holy shit!"

The two tore away as Ichigo ducked around the shelf, squeezing his eyes shut and praying that he could somehow un-see what he had just seen. After a moment he saw Renji step into the field of his vision.

"I thought you two broke up," he said hotly to his fellow Vice Captain.

"Yeah," Renji said reaching up and scratching the back of his neck, "Uh, that didn't work out," he dropped his hands, "Its not like we're together or anything."

"The burning in my eyes says otherwise," Ichigo snapped in return. Renji said nothing, "Hold on, you mean she doesn--" he smacked a hand over Ichigo's mouth.

"Shut up," he snapped, looking to make sure Nel was gone. Thankfully she wasn't all that good at hiding her Spiritual Pressure and he knew she was off in another part of the library, probably heading to deliver the books to Hitsugaya, "No, she doesn't fucking know."

"Renji, you gotta tell her," Ichigo said rolling his eyes.

"Hell no I don't," the Vice Captain snapped, "We're not talking right now."

"So you're just what? Making out in libraries?" Renji coughed and looked away, "_More_ than that?! What, you're going to hit home base in the _library_?!"

"Don't be such a fucking prude," he bit out, "Look, I'm in love with her and I was a total idiot and I let her go. I'm not going to make that mistake a third time," Ichigo looked down, knowing the first of those was his wife.

"You're setting yourself up for a world of pain," he called after Renji as he turned to go.

"What can I say?" he called back, "I'm a glutton for punishment!"

"This is a bad idea and I reserve the right to say I told you so!" he shouted after him.

"Great! That mean's I'm just doing what you've done for the past fifty years!"

Down the hallway, Nel hurried the rest of the way to the 10th Division, clutching the books. When she got inside she saw the office was empty. Frowning she walked fully into the office, looking around for her errant Captain. A note on his desk pointed her in the right direction. His careful handwriting told her that he was in the 5th Division. She had no doubt that he was checking on his fiancée. For some reason it felt like a weight was on her chest. She wondered what it would be like to have someone like that instead of--whatever, she had with Renji. She shook her head, ignoring the feeling. She had made her bed, so to speak, and so she was going to lie in it. No matter how much it hurt. Dumping the books on her desk, she pushed back a slightly displaced lock of hair and set about searching through them for what she needed to find.

After a moment she realized that her eyes were focusing on a single word on the page, her mind so full of thoughts she couldn't sit still. Angrily she shoved herself up and marched out of the 10th Division. If she couldn't get any work done, she could at _least_ check on Bel Bel and see how she was doing. Knowing Bel Bel she was fighting tooth and nail to get out of the Fourth Division. Though she hid it very well Nel knew Halibel loathed the constant attention of being in the hospital. The Ninth Division Captain hated constant attention of any sort. She walked into the Fourth Division and was pointed in the direction of Halibel's room though she was still a good ways down the hallway when she heard the angry voices coming from the room.

"This is ridiculous! I am _fine_ and I have a lot of work to do!"

"Halibel-sama, Hisagi and I are more than capable of handling the paperwork for a few days while you recover."

"_Days_?" came the indignant demand, "What do you mean days? I am fine! I was attacked but now I am healed! I can leave!"

"We all have resistance to Orihime's healing abilities."

Nel grinned and pushed the door open. Standing near the foot of the bed, Sun Sun was trying to explain to her Captain why she shouldn't leave the Fourth Division and, instead, try to heal fully. Sitting up in bed, Halibel was obviously not agreeing with her former Fraccion, though the pale tone of her skin and the wealth of bandages across her upper body supported Sun Sun's argument. Sun Sun's eyes darted upwards to land on Nel. Halibel's own orbs followed the path and landed on Nel as well. Nel flashed a bright grin at the two of them which Sun Sun returned and only caused Halibel's glare to intensify.

"I'll get Unohana," Sun Sun said hurrying out.

"You shouldn't scare your Seated Officers like that Bel Bel," Nel said coming over and sitting on the bed.

"And you should learn to cover your hickeys," Halibel snapped.

Nel's eyes widened as her hand clapped against the skin of her neck where she knew Renji had been kissing. One of Halibel's eyebrows arched as Nel quickly undid her hair, letting it fall around her face and hide the mark though she was sure by now her face was just as red as the skin.

"I--uh--" she stammered the words out, ducking her head down, "How are you feeling?" she asked finally looking up and at Halibel.

"Bored and frustrated," Halibel responded instantly, "Even with this resistance I do not think there's been any lasting damage done," she said flexing her fingers, "I'll probably have to regain some of my flexibility however," her eyes darted to Nel, "Perhaps if you're not too busy with your, whatever he is, we could spar sometime."

"Definitely," Nel grinned, "Renji'll probably watc--oh fuck."

"Renji?" Halibel's eyebrows arched upwards, coming dangerously close to disappearing into her hair, "I was under the impression the two of you were not together anymore."

"We weren't!" Nel cried, "And then he showed up and oh _God_ what was I supposed to do?" she continued, thinking of the heated kisses he had dragged _all_ over her body last night, "Its like someone took the tentative guy I dumped and replaced him with a-a sex God."

"Abarai Renji, sex God," Halibel said thoughtfully, "That has a certain ring to it."

"Shut up," Nel muttered, burying her face in her hands.

"You do realize he's probably still in love with you right?" Halibel asked mildly.

"That's the problem," Nel said, her voice muffled by her palms, "I think I might probably still be in love with him too."


	6. The Hierophant

**AN**

**I totally forgot to thank **VioTanequil** last time so you get TWO thank yous for being so awesome! Read the AN at the end please as well.**

**AN**

_Remember…_

_Please, remember…_

_You must remember!!_

Mitsuki jerked up with a gasp, her eyes flying around the confines of the Urahara shop. She was lying on the couch, having dozed off. She frowned. Oscar had been there and she had been listening to some boring, long winded explanation about reincarnation but she had dozed off. After all, fighting those monsters the night before had kept her up late and then the energy of figuring out what the hell this all meant had been taxing. So she had fallen asleep. She pressed a hand to her forehead. What a strange dream she had, she couldn't remember it just that it felt like she had run for hours.

"Ah, you're awake."

She turned to see a woman with bright red hair tied up at the base of her skull and warm hazel eyes. Lines graced the sides of her eyes and lips, showing that she was not as young or foolish as the rest of them. She wore a pale blue dress, an apron tied around her waist. She walked around the couch to the front of it, her fingers reaching behind her to tighten the bow of her apron, the familiarity of the gesture making Mitsuki think that it was something she did quite often.

"Where--" she looked around, "Where's everyone else?"

"Oscar and my aunt and uncle are off talking. Ichimaru Gin has gone off--somewhere. And you and I are right here," she smiled, "Can I get you something to drink?"

"No, no thank you," Mitsuki said with a shake of her head, "Wait, where's--where's that thing--" she motioned around, "Where's Haineko?"

"Its right here," she said reaching to the edge of the couch and pulling the blade up, holding it out to Mitsuki, "I'm Hanakari Masaki, Oscar's cousin and I own the shop as well," she smiled.

"What is this shop?" she asked standing up, her hands still locked around Haineko, "I feel--" she looked around, a measure of uncertainty creeping into her blue-grey eyes, "I feel as though I've been here before," she turned, "But this place, it looked different, like it was in a dream," she frowned, her eyes rising to meet Masaki's concerned ones, "I'm sorry, I must be going crazy."

"I'll say," a dry voice said. Mitsuki looked down to see a translucent grey cat snaking around her ankles, "Do you know how _long _you've kept me waiting?" the cat demanded, turning his eyes up to her, not bothering to hide the accusation in his voice, "Fifty years. That's a long time to keep someone waiting."

"Fifty years?" she looked down at him, "But I-I'm not even that old."

"You don't say," the cat muttered.

"Honey?" Masaki walked forward, "Who are you talking to?"

"This cat," she glared down at him.

"What cat?" Masaki frowned, her eyes going to Mitsuki's ankles, "There's no cat in here."

"What do you mean?" she looked at the cat which met her gaze squarely, "He's right there--" she frowned, "You are a 'he' right?"

"I'm not a 'he' or a 'cat'," _he_ snapped back, "I am Haineko and _you_ would do well to remember that, my dear."

"My dear?" Mitsuki glared at him, "I have a name."

"You have four names, if my memory serves me right, and that's when you're not drunk. So, until we figure out which name you'll use, I shall call you something else," he said walking off down the hall. Mitsuki frowned, it was like invisible strings were pulling her after him, "Well?" he turned and glared at her, "Come on."

"Come on where?" she demanded, "Where am I supposed to--"

"Follow me," he ordered.

"Don't tell me what to do!"

"Shut up and come with me!" the cat snapped, looping around her leg before running forward. Mitsuki ran after him, "Faster!"

"Would you slow down!" she shouted, "Get back--"

Apparently running after an invisible cat was a recipe for one thing and that was a head on collision. The gawky boy and her slammed into each other and flew backwards. Or she did. The teen executed a perfect back flip and landed on the ground on the balls of his feet, his legs sliding flawlessly into a fighting stance Mitsuki had only seen Oscar do. Unlike Oscar's movements which were full of grace and power, his were only grace. Given his skinny build, she had a feeling that he relied far more on agility than his fists. He didn't even dislodge his glasses during his movement, something Mitsuki imagined took a lot more talent than one would think.

"I'm sorry," she said as his hand suddenly came into her vision.

"It's quite alright," he assured her, his accent making her think that he wasn't from around there. She accepted his hand as he helped her to her feet. Haineko was nowhere to be seen; she just held the blade in her hands.

"Ryuuken _what_ are you doing?" a terse voice demanded.

"Souken," Ryuuken looked over his shoulder at the identical man behind him, "This is--" he frowned and looked at her.

"Mitsuki--Suki," she said, her grip tightening on her Zanpakuto, "Who are you two?"

"I am Ishida Ryuuken, this is my brother, Ishida Souken," the twins looked at her, with the same eyes half-hidden behind wire glasses, "It's nice to meet you."

A sound, a howl, came to their ears. Mitsuki sucked in her breath, looking at her sword. How was she supposed to fight him? There was no mechanism. Last night had been so full of adrenaline that she had simply swung and hoped she hit something. That adrenaline was pounding through her again but she couldn't see the thing she was supposed to fight.

"Oh my," Ryuuken said, his voice deceptively light, "It seems we've got a battle on our hands."

"I knew there was a reason we moved back here," Souken grinned as both of their feet slid into the same stance.

Mitsuki realized that the two of them only _looked_ young. They were actually old, older than her, in their twenties at the very least, if not a little older. They were both skinny to the point of looking like gawky teenagers instead of adults. Ryuuken was a bit taller, Souken's hair was a bit longer but all in all, it was very hard to tell the two apart. Before Mitsuki's stunned eyes, the two stood back to back, Ryuuken's right hand was in front while Souken had his left in front. Before her eyes Mitsuki saw blue form into short poles in their hands. No, not poles, bows. The two held bows in their primary hands, their opposite hands pulled back in a strait line with their shoulders. The blue light formed a taut bowstring and an arrow.

"Where is that ugly thing?" Souken demanded.

"Hollow, my brother, a hollow. Never forget the semantics… You might just insult someone," he said, his voice light as usual, "And there it is, third building from the left," he said.

Mitsuki gasped as the arrows they fired slammed into the Hollow before it had fully rounded the building. Both lowered their hands with the same satisfied smile as the Hollow vanished. The two turned to face Mitsuki who immediately sucked her breath at the sight of the same face looking at her. Both traded the same look of confusion before focusing on her.

"What are you two?" she demanded, "You're not--uh--Shinigami?"

"No," Ryuuken said sharply as Souken made a face of disgust, "We are Quincy."

"Quincy?" she arched an eyebrow, "Excuse me but what kind of name is Quincy?" she put her hands on her hips, "Shinigami at least sounds cool," she looked at them, "What were those bows?" she peered around them, "And where are you hiding them?"

"We're archers," Souken spoke stepping forward, "We're not Shinigami, we fight differently," he looked around, "We've got to get you out of here," he said, "More Hollows are on their way," he frowned, "We don't want to attract attention."

"I don't know--" Mitsuki's eyes darted, looking for an exit, "I mean I--there you are!" she gasped as Haineko came running around the corner. On his heels was none other than, "Gin!"

The ruby eyed Shinigami certainly didn't _look_ out of place in the street. His hair and expression may have been a bit strange but in a town known for its eccentrics he fit right in. His expression didn't change as his eyes swept over the black haired twins and then landed on Mitsuki. He made a sound of confirmation to Haineko and calmly walked over to Mitsuki. For some reason the hairs on the back of her neck rose. He looked so, so _familiar_. She knew she'd seen him before but for the life of her she couldn't figure out where. But even in that familiarity there was an underlying uneasiness, as though part of her was screaming at her to run as far, and as fast, away from him as she could. The other part of her--she didn't want to think about what that part was saying but suffice that its message was contradicting.

"Thank you, Ishidas," he said with a respectful incline of his head, his voice retaining its mocking tone though the effect was softened, "I can take Ms. Suwatari from here."

"Right," she said, "I--I was with him and I got lost."

"Yes," he agreed, catching on as though they had done this a million times before, "She's very fast. One minute she's right there, the next," he waved his hand, grinning.

"Well, you," she said, "need to learn how to navigate crowds instead of getting lost in them," she looked around the empty street, "Thankfully this place is deserted now--except for you two of course."

"Of course," Souken said, his eyes flicking between her and his brother.

"Well thank you for you protection," she said, giving them the push they needed to make their exit, "You've been very kind."

"It was not a problem," Ryuuken said.

"Yeah," Souken said, "we just moved here so I'm sure we'll see each other around, small town and all."

"I'm sure we will," she said.

"Till then," Ryuuken nodded before he and Souken took off down the street, fading into the crowd.

"Come on," Gin said walking down the street. Mitsuki frowned, her fingers tightening around her Zanpakuto as Haineko trotted after Gin. He seemed to realize she wasn't there for he turned and looked at her, "I'm not going to bite. Besides, yer got no idea where ya are," he extended a hand, motioning her forward, "We need to get back to the shop."

"I know where I am," she muttered, scuffing her foot.

"Oh really?" an eyebrow arched up, "Well I suppose that's something. D'ya know where the Urahara Shoten is?"

"No," she pouted.

"Well I know where that is, ya know where ya are," he smiled, "If we connect the two we're in business," he continued to hold out his hand, "Ya just gotta come with me."

"Comforting," she snapped, looking at the expanse of his calloused palm. After a moment she took a step forward. He waited as though he were luring a skittish animal. Haineko, for once, was silent. Finally she stood in front of him. After another heartbeat her hand slipped upwards of its own accord, to lay in his palm. He tightened his fingers on hers, bringing their joined hands between them. His smile was nowhere to be seen, if anything he looked a bit troubled. His ruby eyes were slightly open, "I remind you of someone," she said with a frown.

"Hmm?" he looked at her.

"Its just--every so often I'll see someone who says that I remind them of someone who they loved, someone they lost," she smiled sadly, "I'm starting to think its one person--or I'm going crazy."

"Probably the latter," he said, his grin returning, "Ya can go off with the archer-twins."

"Ha ha," she said sarcastically, "do you have a Zanpakuto?"

"Not with me," he said, "I gave you enough power last night to kick start your own, but at the moment Shinso's not exactly going to be useful."

"Just wait till Shinso hears you said that," Haineko snapped up at him. Gin looked at the cat.

"Haineko!" Mitsuki gasped in horror.

"It's alright," Gin said looking at Haineko, some unspoken challenge between the two. Haineko sniffed and looked away, trotting up ahead, "I fear my Zanpakuto isn't going to be speaking to me for a bit."

"If he's anything like mine, he won't shut up," Mitsuki muttered.

"That's the trick, you gotta know when to ignore them and when not too. A friend, Kisuke--that's the original owner of the Urahara Shoten to you--he managed to make his Zanpakuto so upset she didn't speak to him for almost a hundred years."

"Great!" she grinned, "how do I do that?"

"I heard that," Haineko snapped, wisely leaving out the part where the two of them hadn't been speaking, technically, for fifty.

**Break**

It had taken, quite literally, dying to get Ichigo Kurosaki to pull his head out of his ass and see what the rest of the world seemed to have realized a shockingly long time ago. That Rukia Kuchiki, the vibrant, bunny-loving, damn midget of a Shinigami who could (and would) kick his ass was the only woman he ever had or ever could truly love. He was thankful every day that the woman had, as it turns out, returned his feelings. Even if she had loved him first because of his resemblance to her old training master that had actually been one of the reasons she had fought so hard _not_ to love him. Once she got over that, once he came to Soul Society hung over one of Sado's shoulders and remembered her, well then he had made it his mission (in addition tot he usual saving-the-world-one) to make up for the time they had both wasted. And so, despite Soul Society's protests, despite her brother being--initially--less than enthusiastic about the idea, Ichigo and Rukia had been married amidst all their friends shortly after wining the Winter War.

At the moment all Rukia could feel was concern. Sitting in the 13th Division offices she tried to focus on her paperwork but it seemed all that she could do was stare out the window and twist her wedding ring around her finger. Ichigo had been distant for the past few days. There was another war coming and though Rukia _could_ face it alone the fact was that she didn't _want_ too. She wanted to know that her husband wasn't going to have one of those 'hero' moments that he was so prone too. The last war they both had been technically unseated officers. He had died even when he was able to charge after him. Now they both had others who looked to them for guidance and protection and if she were being honest, Rukia would admit that she was scared.

"Hey," came the soft greeting.

Rukia's head flew up as she looked at the doorway. Standing there, looking rightfully ashamed, was Ichigo. His hands were in the folds of his robe, his eyes downcast. His hazel eyes peered up at her slowly from under his mess of orange hair. Feeling like she was in a trance, Rukia came around to where he was leaning against the door. She stepped forward as his eyes hit the ground again, looking guiltily at the floor. Rukia knew his resemblance to Kaien was one of the few sore spots Ichigo had. Though the husband and wife duo didn't stop their battles once they got married there were times when they did not fight, when they found their strength in each other. It was something that came easier with time, it was something that Rukia needed at the moment. So instead of yelling or hitting her husband she simply fit her body against his, her arms wrapping under his shoulders as she laid her head on his chest.

Ichigo's arm came around her, easily enveloping her in his arms. Rukia closed her eyes, feeling Ichigo's arms tighten around her. Fifty years in Soul Society was not as long as it was in the real world. The two of them had changed very little. He still looked young--until someone looked into his eyes--and she still looked delicate--until her foot was buried in someone's stomach--and they still fit as perfectly together as the first day she hugged him. Finally she drew back, looking up at her husband. Ichigo smiled and looked at her, one of his hands reaching up to cup her cheek, his thumb running along the line of her cheekbone.

"Ichigo," she looked up at him, "What is it?" he said nothing, "Ichigo," she covered his hand with her own, "Why do I feel like you're about to do something very brave and very, very stupid?"

"Rukia," he began.

The massive explosion from the neighboring Division broke them apart.

"Kohaku," the two were off instantly.

Kohaku coughed, stumbling out of the Division but he didn't care. All he could see was the blood surrounding his mom; he had to get to her. Okay, so he might have failed to inform the rest of Soul Society that he kind of knew his Zanpakuto's name but now was not the time for regrets, now was the time for blasting his way out of the 12th Division and getting to his mom.

So that was what he did.

Shouldering his Zanpakuto he ran forward, right into Byakuya Kuchiki's chest.

"Uncle Byakuya!" he gasped jumping to his feet.

"Sneaking out to see your mother," Byakuya stated looking down at him, his eyes flicking to the building and back to him, "You could have done it a bit more subtly."

"Yeah, well--" he trailed off as his 'Uncle' extended his hand. Wincing, Kohaku extended his Zanpakuto and placed it in Byakuya's palm.

"How long have you two been communicating?" he asked.

Inwardly, Kohaku rolled his eyes. He would pay all the gold in the Shihouin Clan to see his Uncle be pissed off and _not_ treat someone with respect. He heard rumors that he had turned his Zanpakuto on his Vice Captain once, but Kohaku seriously doubted that. Besides, that didn't count. He wanted to see it with his own eyes.

He remembered meeting Byakuya Kuchiki when he was a kid and his mother had walked in one day with the noble. Kohaku had met him before, of course, but that was the first time he could _remember_ meeting him. He had stood there, towering over Kohaku like something out of a fairytale and all Kohaku had done was ask him to play blocks with him. He could still remember the look on Byakuya's face before the Captain of the 6th Division and the Head of the Most Noble Family in Soul Society (since his was still technically disgraced) had calmly adjusted his robes and sat down to play blocks with the newest member of the Shihouin Family.

They had built a truly fantastic block city.

In time, Uncle Byakuya had become one of his main teachers in the finer point of running a Clan. His mother was an excellent teacher as well, but he shared the same mindset as Oscar, which was that their mothers (well grandmother for him) were absolutely insane and _not_ to be given more authority than they already had.

"How long," Byakuya asked, bringing him back to the present.

"Um, a week? Maybe?" he shrugged, "not that long."

"Its not unheard of but it is unusual to communicate with your Zanpakuto at such a young age," Kohaku nodded, his eyes shifting, "How much aid did Benihime give you?"

"Not a lot," he muttered, bending his head, "Just a bit of--" he sighed, "She's been working with me for a month and half, she said I was hopeless."

"I see you've proven her wrong," Byakuya said, "Its name?"

"Sukai Tentousama," he said, his voice soft and guilty.

"I didn't hear that," he said, silently telling him that he had to speak the name of his Zanpakuto with pride.

"Sukai Tentousama," Kohaku said, "The command is Hae," he added.

"I see," Byakuya turned the sword over in his well practiced hands.

The blade was more dark gold than silver, closer to bronze. Scrollwork arched up the curved of blade, continuing onto the dark leather hilt. The guard was nonexistent, the hilt leather wrapping almost directly onto the blade. Hanging down from the joined space were a handful of gold charms that dangled onto the wielder's hand. One of the charms had a distinct purple center, another had one that was dark green and the third was a pale green, almost white. Byakuya nodded finally, extending the guard to the young man. Kohaku wrapped his hand around the sword.

"You clearly know one of the release states," he said, "I imagine it has more than one ability."

"I think so," he said sliding the sword into its sheath, "But I don't know for sure," he looked over at the 12th Division, "Well I know there's one--"

"What was that explosion?!" Rukia and Ichigo appeared, "What the hell happened?"

"Uh--" Kohaku shoved his Zanpakuto behind him, "experiment got out of hand."

"In the room you were in?" Ichigo narrowed his eyes.

"It was a very large explosion," Byakuya supplied mildly, "It was extremely lucky no-one was hurt."

"Yes," Rukia agreed, "Of course."

"Kohaku and I were on our way to the 4th Division," Byakuya said, stepping behind Kohaku to hide the appearance of his Zanpakuto.

The two walked to the Fourth Division in silence as Kohaku finally managed to power down his Zanpakuto. Finally they got to the Fourth Division and found Yoruichi's room. The Head of the Shihouin Clan looked tired but alive.

"Kohaku," she looked at him, raising an arm.

"Mom!" Kohaku ran forward, skidding to a halt in front of the bed, "Are you--"

"I'm alright," she said as he threw his arms around her. She winced but said nothing as she wrapped her arms around her son, "It's alright," she said, stroking his hair, "I'm fine, I'm sorry you had to see that."

"It's okay," he said with a shrug.

"My brave little Shinigami," she grinned and tugged a lock of his hair affectionately.

"Yeah, uh, about that," he sat on the bed, scratching at his head nervously, looking around for some semblance of reassurance but failing, "There's something I should tell you, about my Zanpakuto."

"About your--Benihime!"

Knowing better than to stick around, Byakuya stepped out of the room. It was only a matter of time before Yoruichi shouted_ his _name and even if she was recovering, between Yoruichi and his sister he had no plan of getting beat up by the two of them. He looked over as he saw the door to Halibel's room open and then quickly close. Interest piqued, he stepped over to the door as it opened again. Halibel's eyes widened fractionally before she shut the door quickly. A moment later it opened again and she stood there composed.

"Captain Kuchiki, how can I help you?" she asked.

"Forgive me, but I seem to remember you having a certain disregard concerning the rules of the Fourth Division," he said mildly.

Halibel felt the beginnings of a blush. It was true, she did have a certain disregard for those rules. The first time Byakuya had seen her after she had become a Shinigami, she had been half-dead and had staggered to the bathroom to see what she looked like without a gaping hole in her chest. Of course she had disconnected the monitors that let Soul Society know she was in her bed like a good little prisoner, and summoned half of them to her and Nel's hospital room. She resolutely fought it down and looked at the man in front of her.

"Yes well, some habits are harder to break than others," she crossed her arms in front of her chest, "Now are you going to help me escape or should I just go out the window?"

"You are on a high floor," he said, "I believe going out the window would be a bad idea."

"Alright then," she said, "Help me." He arched an eyebrow as if to ask if she was serious, "Well, you're here. Do you have something better to do?"

"Very well," he said finally opening the door, "Let's go."

"What?" she looked at him, "We can't just--walk out--"

"Of course we can," he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. She made no move to continue, "I was under the impression you _wanted_ to leave."

"Oh, I--very well," she sighed walking forward.

"Wait," he said.

"What?" she turned around, "I was under the impression you were going to _help_ me leave," she teased, unable to resist the opening he gave her. She could have sworn he smiled but just as quickly the gesture was gone as he walked over to the room and opened a cabinet, extending a pair of robes in his hand. She walked over and accepted them, "Thank you."

"It will be easier to leave if you leave that," he motioned to the hospital robe, "Behind."

Halibel nodded and slipped into the bathroom, changing. Byakuya waited patiently. Neither said anything about her Captain's robe which had been destroyed by the attack. Instead the two walked out of the Fourth Division. No-one stopped them; it was easy to just see them as two Shinigami walking down the hallway. Byakuya escorted her to her Division, not speaking until they were in front of the door.

"Thank you for your help," she said.

"It was not a problem," he said.

"Well--good afternoon, I'll see you at the Captain's meeting," she finished walking into the Division.

Byakuya turned and headed back to his own Division. Halfway there, Yachiru fell into step beside him. She had obviously just come from kicking ass, her pink hair was caught up in a sever braid that offset the childish color. She was wearing the uniform of the Special Forces, her back and shoulder bare. He caught a glimpse of a few welts on her shoulder blades but knowing Yachiru, the men who had given them to her were probably thankful that Halibel had vacated the room.

"Morning, Byakushi," she grinned at him. He made no comment on the nickname except to arch an eyebrow.

"Hello Yachiru," he said finally, knowing that if he was silent, his friend would simply talk until he either walked away or joined in.

"So, have you made a move yet?"

"Have I… What?" he demanded, unable to keep the shock out of his voice.

"Made a move," Yachiru said with an eye roll, "You know, made a play for her, swept her off her feet, tried to bang her brains out--" Byakuya seemed too shocked to talk, "Feel free to stop me at _any_ time here but don't try to deny it, we've all seen the way you look at her."

"Excuse me?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing.

"Well that's not technically denial," she said tapping her lip faux-thoughtfully, "It was all over Soul Society how you swept her into your arms--"

"And followed Unohana because she had just been attacked and I was _helping_ another Captain," he broke in, shocked that he had to defend what he done.

"Ugh, fine," she rolled her eyes, "Be difficult, whatever," she crossed her arms, "You know, Hanatarou is better at making a move than you."

"Really?" he arched an eyebrow, "I was under the impression you were the one who threw him into that broom closet."

"Okay, so maybe I initiated it," she crossed her arms, "But he wasn't complaining if you know what I mean."

"I really wish I didn't," he said.

"Fine, but if you want a closet I can get you the keys," she offered.

"Thank you, but I'm alright," Byakuya said dryly.

"Yachiru!" Kenpachi's voice boomed all the way to them, "Why are Ikkaku and Yumichika in the Fourth Division?!"

"Whoops, gotta go," she grinned, "Later Byakushi!" she turned to go, "Oh and I told you so," his brow furrowed in confusion, "Just in case you realize it and I'm not there," she stopped, "Can I get a picture of your face?"

"Goodbye, Yachiru," he said.

_"Yachiru!!"_

"I'm fucking coming!" she bellowed, stalking off towards her Division. "See ya, Byakushi!"  "…"

**AN**

**Woo hoo! Hi Again! So, in the last story and the first couple reviews people kept saying "where's Ishida?!" and since I only knew him as the Ulquihime obstacle I was all "there is no Ishida!" but as I learned with KarinSado and SuiKa (for you Naruto-readers) I stopped and looked him up on wikipedia.**

**Still not **_**that**_** much of a fan but whatever, he's on his way. In the meantime you have his two sons to enjoy!!**

**They're named, obviously, for his father and grandfather. They're identical and look **_**exactly**_** like him so if you want to see what they look like...go look at him. **

**Ryuuken is a bit more old fashioned and the younger of the two. He likes tailoring like his father and is a bit more reserved than his brother. He's taller by 1/2 an inch and he's left handed. **

**Souken is the more 'modern' of the twins and obviously a bit more open with his emotions. His hair is longer and the fact that he's the elder of the twins but still a bit shorter pisses him off to no end. He's right handed.**

**Uryuu is coming...just not for a bit...so be happy with his sons.**

**Now a bit about Kohaku's Zanpakto. **

**Its name is Sukai Tentousama which translates to Sky God and its command is Hae or Fly. All these translations are from online dictionaries since I don't japanese therefore if you do and you see something wrong, please, for the love of God, PM me and let me know! Since Kohaku's just starting out he blew up a wall, nothing more. He doesn't know his release states--yet.**

**Thanks again to **VioTanequil**!!**

**Til next time!**

**AN**


	7. The Lovers

**AN **

**Hola! A few answers for you lovely reviewers/PM-ers.**

**So, the timeline...its messed up. But come on, the timeline in Bleach is messed up too! Maybe not so much but..yeah, I wanted a timeline when everyone in earth would be a grown up and everyone in Soul Society is a bit older...like Yachiru. So she's older too, lets just say that like in the real world people go through growth spurts. Oh and her potty mouth? Blame the 11th Division, lets just say Kenpachi's not very happy with them. **

**In the Real World, Ishida's a little, uh, shall we say bitter that everyone up and died on him and he's been left behind. Wouldn't you be? So he might not have imparted the whole love-Shinigami thing onto his sons. Their mom is, well, not that important and definitely not cannon. Keigo and Tatsuki are also on their way. **

**Oh and the reason his Zanpakto 's name has 'Sama' on it is because, well, with Benihime helping do you really think his Zanpakto doesn't have a massive ego? Because, um, it **_**totally**_** does. **

**Unlike **Viotanequil **who is just awesome!**

**AN**

Moonlight spilled through the darkened halls of Kuchiki Manor, lighting the way for the one occupant awake and moving about.

Kurosaki Ichigo was not someone who looked like he had been awakened from a troubled dream, seeking comfort outside the bedroom that he shared with his wife. He was dressed, not in the robes of a Shinigami, but rather in jeans and a shirt that made him seem like the young man who had no knowledge of Shinigami or Espada. He had tied his orange hair back under a bandana, hiding the distinct color. On top of that he wore a hat and carried a pair of sunglasses in his pocket. He had left his cell phone behind; he knew he couldn't afford the risk of having it traced back to him.

He was going to have to disappear.

He was a Vice Captain, true, but like so many others, his title was not a reflection of his rank. Though he knew it was going to alert Soul Society, he knew he had no choice. His lack of a choice was what was guiding him. He knew that he had no option, just like he had known it back when he went off to save Rukia, back when he chose to stand against Aizen. Now, once more, he knew he was going to have to make the choice no-one else was willing too. Or rather, he knew he was going to have to do what no-one else was willing too. Like he had realized, there was no choice in the matter--not to him anyway.

So, in the outskirts of Soul Society, Kurosaki Ichigo once again displayed the power that had made him a legend and overrode every security measure before vanishing into the Living World.

**Break**

"Everybody up!" doors were pounded on as Captains and Vice Captains were woken and ushered into the Central 46 by members of the 2nd Division.

"Ten minutes ago, Vice Captain Kurosaki Ichigo broke through ever security measure we created and disappeared into the Living World," Soifon said, "Captain Urahara has informed me that he had no prior knowledge of this and his presence at the 4th Division has been confirmed," she looked at Rukia, "Where is your husband?"

"I have no idea," she said looking the Captain, "I'd like to know myself."

"Lets just cut the bullshit, we all _know_ he went to find the Vizards," Grimmjow growled. Everyone looked at him, "What?! Where the hell else do you think he went?!"

"How do you know that's where he went?" Soifon demanded, glaring at him.

"Because its the most stupid/heroic thing to do and that's his specialty?!," he supplied before smacking his forehead into his palm, "Fuck. This means someone's going to have to go rescue him agai--ow!" he glared at his Captain who lowered her elbow fractionally but sent him a warning glare none the less, "Well he probably will!"

"Yes, and the sky appears blue, but it doesn't mean you have to state the obvious every time the opportunity presents itself," she hissed.

"Well, someone has too," he muttered.

"Someone! Someone help!" the doors burst open as Dondochakka raced in, "Captain Hitsugaya's trapped in the Division and I can't find Neliel anywhere!"

For a moment everyone was frozen. Just for a moment. Then, like she was competing in some invisible race, Hinamori took off.

"Toshiro!"

If she hurried, he could still be alive. She ignored the shouts of her name and kept running. She had to get there, he had to be alright. It took her less than thirty seconds to get to the 10th Division, but even that seemed like a lifetime to her panic-ridden mind. She barely managed to catch herself as her feet slid on the ice that was spreading outwards.

"Toshiro!" she screamed grabbing Tobiume, "Snap! Tobiume! Bankai!"

Her blade roared to her command as Hinamori blasted open the door to reveal her worst fear. The entire room was filled with the block of ice, the sight of Hitsugaya's signature Thousand Years Ice Prison. She had no doubt that inside was her fiancé. There was no eerie calm in her this time, only the pounding of her heart and the certainty that if he was dead, she wouldn't want to still be there. She survived Aizen's betrayal, Aizen's attempt on her life, the darkness afterwards--she survived that all because Hitsugaya believed in her. Because when she felt as though she would die from the darkness he was there, pulling her back to the light, back to him. Grasping Tobiume she tried to see where Hitsugaya was but the ice offered her no answers.

"Tobiume!" she shouted.

"I know!" the Zanpakuto shouted back, "I can't feel Hyourinmaru," there was a pause, "I know where he is. Cut it!"

"Cut! Tobiume!"

Even when she became a Captain, her Bankai was still a relatively new thing. She had come to accept that she was not like Hitsugaya, that it took her twice as much work and strife to get what came to him so easily. Tobiume and her and grown together, her Bankai altering. Its basic principles stayed the same, converting her Spiritual Energy into a physical attack. Only instead of the blasts she created in her Shikai her Bankai included stronger blasts and the ability to create streams of Spiritual Energy as well as shields. The streams were different since they were for close range fighting and able to slice through things rather than blow them up.

That was what she did, slicing down the seams of Hitsugaya's Thousand Year Ice prison, working through the ice systematically until she had his basic outline. If the two hadn't sparred on numerous occasions she doubt she could have done it. It was very hard, she realized that the two of them should probably spar with their Bankais occasionally in the future. She resolutely shoved down the traitorous voice that whispered the distinct possibility there might not be a future. Continuing, she managed to slice the ice as close as she dared.

"Hado 54!" she shouted, focusing the Kido roaring along the tip of Zanpakuto before using Tobiume's energy to heat, not the ice, but the blade itself. Using the hot blade she focused the energy along the remaining ice, melting it away, "Toshiro!"

He looked horrible. His skin was ice white, practically the color of his hair and his lips were tinted blue. His eyes were closed and she couldn't see any movement of his chest. She scrambled over to him, pressing her hands to his cold chest. She looked around. Where was everyone? Why weren't they coming to help?! Where was Orihime? Despite her strength, she couldn't drag him anywhere, not when he was dead weight like he was. She fumbled and pressed her fingers to his neck, her other hand going to her chest. She couldn't see anything but maybe--just maybe--she closed her eyes and held her breath, praying for any sign. She felt none. Exhaling she closed her eyes.

And felt her palm rise.

Her eyes flew up as she felt it again, barely there but there none the less. His skin was stiff with ice but if she pressed her fingers harder the faint fluttering was not her own heart which was going at the speed of a 10 ton truck.

"Toshiro," she breathed, "Oh God, hold on, just--" she looked around, knowing that they didn't have a lot of time but knowing that she had to keep him warm, "Tobiume!" she grabbed her sword, still warm with the Kido, "Shield! Tobiume!" she shouted, the pink shield enveloping Hitsugaya. The warmth of the Kido was transferred along the shield. With a little alteration she managed to wrap it around him so that he was in a cocoon of warmth, "You'll be alright," she said, the relief of him being alive making her slightly dizzy.

"Momo," she looked at Tobiume's spirit, "I can't feel Hyourinmaru," her Zanpakuto repeated, voice full of worry.

"Tobiume," Hinamori looked at her Zanpakuto with sympathy, knowing that just as she and Hitsugaya were close and in tune, Tobiume and Hyourinmaru were as well, "He'll be alright."

"Captain Hinamori!" Unohana and Orihime burst into the room, "Oh no--" Orihime fell to her knees, "_Santen Kesshun_! I reject!"

The gold barrier formed over Hitsugaya, slowly restoring him to life but the Captain's eyes stayed closed. Finally she withdrew the shield, sitting back on her heels and looking at them with sad eyes.

"I can't restore him anymore," she said, "Not without damaging his ability to reconnect with Hyourinmaru," she looked at him sadly, "I don't want to take that away from him. His connection is still fresh, it's not like Yoruichi's, her connection was barley there at all," she looked at Hinamori, "I'm sorry."

"No, no," Hinamori looked at him, "No, you're right. He would never forgive us."

"Lets get him to the Fourth Division," Unohana said with a soft smile, "You two," she looked at two members of the Fourth Division, "Please put him on the stretcher--wait!" the two men froze, one foot in the air at the harshness in their Captain's voice. Unohana strode forward and bent down, picking up something lying nearby, something Orihime had accidentally restored when she did Hitsugaya.

It was a lock of blond hair.

"We need to get this to the 12th Division right away," she said signaling a third member, "take this to them now," she looked at the two of them, "you two get him to the 4th division."

Outside, Captain Komamura sniffed the air, trying to locate the 10th Division Vice Captain. Despite being mostly an adult, Nel still retained a love for all things cute and fuzzy, and despite standing at 7 feet, 8 inches tall--before you counted the ears of course--he fell under that category. That, and the fact that Tenken, his Zanpakuto, was a challenging sparring partner for Gamuza which Nel also loved. So he, like everyone else, wanted to find the green haired former Espada. He opened his eyes and looked around, searching for some kind of sign of her scent since, if this man's pattern continued, he was not going to feel her Spiritual Pressure.

"You should have stayed in the Fourth Division a bit longer, Captain Halibel," he spoke, turning his head to see the woman standing there, her breathing labored. It was not just Nel really, all the former Espada had never treated him differently because of what he looked like. He supposed that they too had felt like monsters at one time for what they were. Halibel may have looked ill at the moment but he recognized the resolution in her eyes to find her friend, "Vice Captain Abarai?" he turned to see the red headed man standing there.

"Still?" he looked at them, fear thick in his voice.

"No," Halibel said, meeting his gaze squarely. The three of them were silent for a moment, their eyes searching for any sign of Nel's whereabouts, "She would have fought," she frowned, walking back towards the Division, "She never knew when to run," she led the two men into the Division, still damp with ice.

"It's colder over here," Komamura said nodding in a direction. The three of them approached where he had nodded. He frowned and pressed his hand to a door, "There's ice sealing this place."

"Stand back!" Renji ordered, grabbing the hilt of his Zanpakuto, "Howl! Zabimaru!"

The whip tore through the seam of the door and the ice underneath. It took two more strikes until the ice was removed from the doorway. Inside the closet was Nel. She was sitting against the wall, unconscious but obviously placed so that the first thing they saw was the knot on her head where someone had knocked her unconscious. Across the narrow space was a sealed Gamuza. Renji knelt next to the Vice Captain.

"She's been knocked unconscious," Halibel said, "But--"

"Captain Hitsugaya must have shared your opinion," Komamura said, "He knocked her unconscious before she could fight."

"Come," Halibel said, "Let's go and get Unohana."

Renji's eyes widened as he looked over at Captain Halibel. He had no doubt that she would have figured out what he and Nel was doing. He honestly was expecting her to tell Captain Komamura to get Unohana while she stayed and beat him within an inch of his life. But all she did was incline her head in a gentle show of, dare he say, permission? She and Komamura walked off to go and get Unohana, leaving the two of them alone. Renji reached forward and eased Nel to the ground, careful not to jostle her. He picked up Gamuza and placed it near its Mistress. A soon as her hand wrapped around the hilt the effect was instant. Nel coughed, rolling on her side with Renji's help as she struggled to clear her lungs.

"Renji?" she looked at him, her voice hoarse and full of disbelief, "What the--Captain Hitsugaya!" she cried, trying to shove herself to her feet.

"Easy--easy," Renji steadied her, "It's over."

"He's not--" he shook his head, "Damn it," she cast her eyes downwards, frustration and anger in her voice, "We were going to the meeting but there was a _guy_ in here, he was just _standing_ there. I wanted to fight but Hitsugaya said it was too dangerous. He knocked me out and threw me in there with Gamuza," she closed her eyes, "He didn't stand a chance."

"He's going to be alright" Renji said, "He's strong."

"He's strong because of Hyourinmaru," she snapped, pushing herself up and grabbing the wall to aide her struggle to her feet instead of him.

"Nel," Orihime rushed forward, "Oh--Oh just hold still," she fumbled slightly holding her hands out as the golden shield covered half of Nel, healing the woman inside before retracting, "There," she lowered her hands, "They've taken Captain Hitsugaya to the Fourth Division," she supplied.

"Thanks," Nel said and turned to go.

"Not so fast," Grimmjow stepped forward, blocking her exit as Halibel and Ulquiorra appeared next to her.

"Orihime," Ulquiorra said, his voice gently prodding her.

"Um," Orihime twisted her fingers, "I accidentally restored a lock of blond hair, it's in the Twelfth Division, but I couldn't really restore more of it, it was very, very hard to restore," her voice dropped to the barest whisper, "It was like restoring Grimmjow's arm hard."

"You mean--" Nel looked at Halibel.

"Gin voiced his suspicion to me before I was attacked but I was rather dismissive of it," she sighed, "Now it seems as though he could be correct."

"Blond?" Grimmjow demanded, "We're dealing with a blond Espada? Who the fuck-"

"We need to think about this," Halibel cut in, "Right now we need to go home."

"I'm going to the Fourth Division," Nel said turning.

"No," Soifon snapped, "You are staying here with a full guard. It's unlikely that this man will attack this place twice but you never know. You have responsibilities--"

"Captain Hitsugaya is my Captain!" Nel protested loudly.

"Yes, and at the moment he is incapacitated meaning _you_ are acting Captain of the 10th Division and as such your responsibility is to your Division and the 13 Court Guard Squads," she stared Nel down until the green haired woman turned her eyes away and gave an unhappy nod of consent, "You two," Soifon turned to her men, "If it breaths, immobilize it. I don't care who--or what--it is. We're accepting this as an act of war. Until we figure out what the fuck this thing wants everyone's a potential victim, is that clear?"

"Yes, Captain!" they all said in response.

"Come on," Ulquiorra said quietly to Orihime. She looked at the men and then back at the emerald eyed Shinigami before nodding and following him. He slipped them both out of the Division with stealth that surprised even her.

"Ulquiorra?" she inquired, "Where are we going?"

"Home," he said, his voice colder than she had heard it in a very long time.

**Break**

"Come on," Hisagi said to Sun Sun.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"I'm walking you home," he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Okay," she said slowly, her hands twisting in the folds of her robes. He hid a smile at that but it must have shown because she gave an indignant foot stomp, "I can't help it!"

"I didn't say anything," he said holding up his hands in defense against the 3rd Seat.

"You smiled!" she cried.

"Didn't know that wasn't allowed, Sun," he said with an easy smile.

"Yes, well, its not," she finished lamely before marching resolutely forward, "Why are you being so protective of me anyway?" she looked at him, arching an eyebrow, "I mean you've hardly let me out of your sight since the Commander General died."

"I--" he looked ahead, feeling the heat on the back of his neck and muttered something unintelligible.

"I didn't catch that," Sun Sun told him with a smile.

"I'm just--" he looked over at her, then ahead, then back at her once more, "You know how I got these?" he waved a hand at the three lines down his face.

"Hinamori said that it was during a training accident," she said.

"Yeah, well, I lost two people during that exercise, the second real friends I ever had. The first friends, my street gang, got killed by a Hollow. Then Tousen betrayed the entire division, as well as me. Every time someone having to do with Aizen shows up someone I care about winds up dead or a traitor," he looked ahead, "I don't want that to happen again."

"I don't mind," she said softly, her eyes going down to the ground almost guiltily before going back to his face, "You walking me home or the scars," she added quickly, motioning to the line that sliced down her own face from one of the cave ins of Las Noches that killed her fellow Fraccion, "I was just curious," she said as they continued to walk down back to the Division, "So where's the 69 tattoo from?" she asked as they rounded the door to her quarters.

"Oh that's a long story," he said.

"I have ti--" she began, opening the door to her quarters. He heard the soft click of a mechanism that was not her door.

"Get down! Reap! Kazeshini!" he shouted, spinning the blades of his Zanpakuto. They repelled the rubble that the explosion created, leaving the two Seated Officers of the 9th Division stunned but otherwise alive, "Are you okay?" he demanded looking at the shell shocked woman.

"I--" Sun Sun raised a shaky finger, pointing. Carved into one of the remaining supports was a single word.

_Traitor._


	8. The Chariot

**AN**

**Welcome to the new chapter! Yays. We've got more of the gang coming! Go give praises to **VioTanequil **for being an awesome beta reader! **

**AN**

"Ulquiorra, Ulquiorra--" Orihime grasped his arm, her fingers digging into the flesh that lay underneath as he led them towards the home they shared, "Ulquiorra tell me what's wrong, please!"

He stopped and turned to face her fully. Even though he knew they should be continuing homewards, even though he knew she was not safe, it had been years since he had been able to deny her anything and it did not seem he would be able to revert to that habit anytime soon. Still, he could not meet her grey eyes, not with the knowledge that something like what _he _had once been was causing this. Even when her hand cupped his cheek, trying to turn his face to hers he kept his eyes averted. He knew that she would read him as easily as she always had but he could delay it for as long as he could.

Orihime saw the loathing in his eyes and felt her heart ache for him. She knew it could not be easy for him but even she did not know how hard it could be. And now, once again, Ichigo was going to save them all--or attempt it at the very least. She couldn't imagine what Rukia was going through, but she did know that she would never want to be in her position. She raised her other hand and pressed both to Ulquiorra's cheeks, forcing his face to turn fully to hers. Even so he kept his eyes averted as though--as though he was ashamed to look at her. So Orihime did the only thing she could think of.

She closed her eyes and kissed him.

If nothing else, _that_ made his eyes stop being averted. She moved her hands from his face to his shoulders, stepping closer and pulling him down to her. He hesitated for a moment, as he had when their relationship was still new and tentative. When she was a foolish young girl still half in love with Ichigo Kurosaki and he was a new Shinigami, still fraught by the coldness that had defined him for as long as could remember. Now she feared he would retreat into that shell and she would have no choice but to do the same.

"Don't shut me out," she whispered drawing back and begging his eyes to look at hers, "please don't shut me out," she repeated, her voice more breathless, "please."

"I--" he looked at her, his emerald eyes honest. If nothing else she loved him for his honesty and that honesty she saw in his eyes, "I wish there was something I could say to make this all go away."

"I think we all wish that," she said.

"I don't think you're safe with me," he said, his voice soft.

"I don't think I'm safe anywhere else," she said with a charming smile.

"I wish you would be," he countered.

"I'm glad I'm not," she returned easily.

"I disagree with you," he said finally.

"I can live with that," she smiled, "if you can live with me, I can live with you."

"Good," he said after a pause, "come," he took her hand, his grip far gentler, "let's go home."

"Alright, I'll cook!"

"The world may be close to ending but it has not yet," he said, "and therefore, you are not cooking."

"Aw," she pouted but he only gave her one of his small, enigmatic smiles, "what are you planning?" she asked but he said nothing, simply went to open the door.

"No!" Ayame screamed, slamming into his hand, "don't open the door!"

"What?" Orihime looked at her.

"You can't open the door!" the little fairy wailed, her eyes full of tears, "Everything's going to blow up! We all went to stop the others from opening their doors. Shuuhei saved Sun Sun but--but--"

"Get off of me!" Grimmjow snarled.

"Don't open the fucking door then!" Tsubaki snarled in response.

"Ayame," Orihime held out a finger, the fairy landed on it, "what's going on?"

"People came, they put _things_ on the other side of the door and they carved words into the wood so that everyone would know," her lip trembled, "that everyone would know you all betrayed them," she looked at Ulquiorra, "but you didn't do that."

"I know, I know," Orihime soothed, "did everyone else get there in time?"

"Uh-huh," Ayame said.

"Who's doing this?" Orihime whispered, looking up at Ulquiorra, "who would--this isn't fair you didn't have any choice in becoming a Shinigami!" she looked at the door, a rare measure of anger in her eyes, "this isn't fair!"

"I know," he said, his voice soft, "I know."

"And now they're going to tear us apart! Just because--just because they can't let the past go," she grabbed his hands, "please don't let them do that."

"Orihime," he looked at her, "that's not going to happen."

"Not to sound ungrateful," Halibel said stepping forward, "but I believe this one belongs to you," she added holding out Shun'o, her other hand held two fingers bent clearly out of shape.

"She wanted to open the door," the fairy snapped crossing her arms defensively.

"It would seem your fairy is rather passionate about what she believes," Halibel added, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

"Shun'o," Orihime scolded.

"How about a little 'thanks for saving my ass'?" Shun'o demanded moving her hands to her hips.

"You broke her fingers," Orihime pointed out.

"No, I do owe her a thank you," Halibel said, "it is hardly the first time I have broken a bone and I fear that it will not be the last," she smiled, "so thank you," she said looking at the fairy, "for saving my, uh, ass."

"You're welcome," Shun'o said finally, "I'm staying with her," she continued, "we're all staying so that if someone comes we can shield."

"Good idea," Orihime said with a smile.

"Good idea?" Ulquiorra demanded, 'the last time you did that you were in a coma for six months."

"That was because rubble fell on me," she said.

"Orihime--"

"I'll be fine, Ulquiorra," she soothed.

Ulquiorra didn't quite believe her.

**Break**

Byakuya Kuchiki was livid.

Apparently having guards from the 2nd Division wasn't enough, now he had guards from his own family as well and none of them were making it very hard to seen. Now he felt like instead of being guarded he was leading some very strange parade and it was _not_ a good feeling. He had tried to ban them from certain places but they were _always_ there. Hovering. He felt like he was a kid again and if there was one thing Byakuya never wanted to be, it was a kid again. Yoruichi had been released from the hospital and while Urahara was working hard on being able to see whose hair had been left, the work was slow. The only person who seemed _more_ infuriated by his guards was his nephew if how he was currently entering the 6th Division offices was any indication.

"Leave me the fuck alone!" Kohaku shouted angrily.

"I would refrain from using language such as that," Byakuya scolded lightly.

"Yeah, well, they deserved it," the young man snapped walking over to Byakuya's desk, "Masaki told me to tell you that Haineko is acting normally as far as she can tell and leading Mitsuki on weird quests."

"She did not try to stop it?" Byakuya asked mildly, glancing up from the documents spread in front of him.

"She said initially she was confused but she let her go when she realized. She says that she and Gin returned together a bit later. Apparently they met a pair of Quincy's."

"Quincy's?" Renji appeared in the doorway, looking unusually somber but surprised none the less, "we're their last name's Ishida?"

"Yes," Kohaku said with a frown, "do we, uh, know them?"

"We do," Byakuya said laying down his brush and looking at Renji, "I was under the impression that Ishida still did not want anything to do with the Shinigami world."

Renji shrugged but said nothing. He was in an equally foul mood, something his Captain seemed to be well aware of and wisely did not comment on. He had been briefly in charge of the 6th Division after Byakuya felt it was necessary to participate in 'operation human shield' and spent a few weeks recovering. He knew for a fact that the green haired woman was avoiding him. Not something he wanted after finding her unconscious in a closet. But she seemed determined to have nothing to do with him and he had very little choice but to agree with her.

For the moment anyway.

"So, um," Kohaku looked down and then at Byakuya, "Mom's not home," Byakuya's brush stopped moving, "I mean, I know _why_ she's not home but its not like this guy's just going to attack her right?" he looked up at Byakuya, his amber eyes begging for some kind of confirmation, "Right?" he repeated, his voice soft.

"Your mother has spent the past two hundred or so years making sure anyone stupid enough to attack her or her family is put in a considerable amount of pain," he said, "Myself included. I'm sure whoever did this is well aware of that," his eyes rose to meet those of his nephew as he laid down his brush, "I caution you, however, from following that thought all the way. Revenge is a pointless exercise reserved for cowards and those who do not know better. When we cannot let the past die, that is when we are truly ruled by it."

"I'm not thinking about revenge," he muttered unhappily.

"Good," Byakuya said, "then you and Renji can go and train."

"But Captain--" Renji began.

"I am well aware that you've been staring at the same sentence for the past three minuets," Byakuya said, "your Zanpakuto's regenerative properties are well suited to sparring against Kohaku's--" his lips flickered in the barest of smiles, "shall we say, destructive ones," he looked at Renji, "if we have any word I will _personally_ come and inform you."

"Come on," Renji said after a minuet.

"Sweet!" Kohaku ran after the Vice Captain.

Byakuya leaned back in his chair slightly and turned his face to the window.

"I thought they had broken up, Byakushi," Yachiru said peeking through the window. Byakuya opened one eye. By that time the Vice Captain had seated herself fully on his window sill.

"Must you do that?" he asked.

"Do what? Visit you? Well, I'm bored and you're here."

"I'm flattered."

"You should be."

"How are Yumichika and Ikkaku?" he asked.

"They'll live," she said rolling her eyes, "I think Ken-chan is going to kill them for the words he heard me use," she grinned, "Which is funny because I heard them from you," his eyes widened as he looked over at her, "when you stubbed your toe that time--woohoo Byakushi you can curse up a storm."

"That is not funny," he said recovering his dignity.

"I beg to differ," she grinned.

"Is there a reason you're here?"

"Aside from the pleasure of your company?" she asked innocently, "Yes," she sighed, "Hitsugaya hasn't woken up yet. I'm worried about Momo," Byakuya looked at her, "I think we should help her."

"With?"

"Paperwork," she said happily chucking a stack of it onto his desk, "what'd you say?"

"Very well," he said moving the stack onto his own, "it should be done in an hour or two."

"Thanks Byakushi. You can bring it to the Ninth Division when you're done," she grinned and hopped off the ledge before he could protest.

**Break**

Looking down at the still figure on the bed Hinamori could appreciate how circular her life was. The last time it had been her, lying on the bed dead to the world. Now it was Hitsugaya. Last time she had been a Vice Captain, still too wide eyed and innocent for her own good. Now she was a Captain, older, wiser, perhaps a bit jaded but still somehow _more_ than she had been. Hitsugaya was too. He was not supposed to be the one lying there, his white hair almost indistinguishable from the fabric of the sheets he lay on. He was older and taller and a hundred times more powerful than he had been as a boy. It wasn't supposed to be him; it was supposed to be her. Her Captain's robe had never seemed heavier than in that moment, the impossible burden of being so _alone_ made her head spin.

She dragged a chair up next to the bed and sat down, looking at Hitsugaya's deceptively peaceful features. Her hand was still wrapped around Tobiume's pommel as she felt her own Zanpakuto reel with the pain of the loss of Hyourinmaru. She could feel the ache in her chest from her blade and knew it was barely a fraction of what Hitsugaya was going through. He had told her bedtime stories of Hyourinmaru before either of them knew what a Zanpakuto spirit _was_. Hyourinmaru was as much a part of him as, as his hair or his temper or anything else that made him Hitsugaya. She reached out with her left hand and covered his own, the pink diamond of her engagement ring sparkling in the light.

Hinamori saw the world go foggy as her eyes filled with tears. His proposal had been so unexpected. They had just been walking one night, both having gotten back late from their respective divisions when he had turned to her and simply asked her to marry him. She thought he was joking. They had been dating for fifty years and she had been more than a little in love with him for many before that. She just had sort of assumed they were going to continue just to be together. After all it wasn't like anyone was stupid enough not to know they were together. But he had been serious.

And then he had held out a ring.

It was a dusty silver band, a handful of perfectly crystal clear diamonds sparkling along the curve of the metal to wrap around the circular pink diamond in the centre. The ice he was known for, the pink she was known for, both were represented perfectly in the ring. It had seemed the entire world had gone silent, holding their breath for her reply. She had nodded breathlessly, her voice sure when she agreed to be his wife. He had slipped the ring onto her finger and then, in the middle of Soul Society, under the stars he had kissed her.

The next day she found the Commander General pinned to the tower. Now he was lying half dead in front of her.

"Toshiro," she whispered, her other hand coming up to brush through the snowy locks of his hair, "we've come full circle, haven't we?" she looked up at him, "I guess it's my turn to save you huh?"

"Stupid Bed Wetter," came the raspy reply, "we save each other remember?"

"Shiro?!" her head flew up as his teal eyes cracked open, "oh God--I thought--I--" he grimaced before gingerly pushing himself up, "Toshiro don't sit up!" she cried putting her hands on his shoulders.

"Momo," he pushed himself up fully, running a hand through his hair, "Hyourinmaru was taken," he said.

"Yes," she said softly. His hand clutched the fabric over his heart as he doubled over, "it's alright," she said running a hand up and down his back, "I know it hurts," she said, "just--focus on something else," she instructed.

"How--" he began, his eyes dragging upwards to her own.

"I couldn't feel Tobiume when I was in my coma and for a bit afterwards," she said, "it feels like someone ripped your heart out right?" he gave a nod of conformation, "I know its hard but try to focus on something, anything--Toshiro!" from his fingertips a web of ice began to spread against the fabric of his shirt, encasing the area over his heart, "Shiro talk to me!"

"Its Hyourinmaru," he said, his other hand clenching in the fabric of the sheet, "he wants to break our connection."

"But--if you do that--" she looked at him, "you might not be able to regain it."

"It doesn't matter," he said with a shake of his head, his features contorted in pain, "we can't continue like this--we'll both die."

"Hold on," she said, "I can help you--" she looked at him, "you have to trust me though okay?"

"Always," he said, his teeth gritting together.

"Snap! Tobiume!" she shouted, "Bankai!"

Pink light roared through the fourth division as Hinamori broke the circle.

**Break**

A knock on the door of his loft woke him up from a great dream. Grumbling he shoved himself up and ran a hand over his sleep-fogged eyes. The woman next to him mumbled something and rolled over, exposing her bare breasts to the cascade of morning sun, blond hair falling over to hide her features. If he just fogged his eyes a bit he could pretend--he crushed the thought and stood up angrily. Grabbing his pants he yanked them on but didn't bother with a shirt. Whoever the hell was bothering him at 7 am on a Saturday morning either knew him or knew they were going to get their ass kicked. Shirts were not required for that. He yanked open the door and felt his jaw drop.

"Kurosaki? What the fuck are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Hello Shinji," he said with a cautious grin.

Shinji Hirako couldn't help but wonder if he had gotten a bit more drunk last night than he thought. Remembered was probably the wrong word since past 10 it got a bit blurry. But still, if he was going to hallucinate Ichigo it certainly wasn't going to be with him looking quite as shitty as he did at the moment. He rubbed his eyes but Ichigo Kurosaki was still standing outside his door.

"Fuck," he muttered pushing open the door, "come in," he said walking into the loft, "so? Whose ending the world this time and what can I do to save your ass and yet give you all the glory?" he turned and faced the orange haired man.

"I take it you know the Commander General is dead," Ichigo muttered.

"No, I was just taught and mentored by him for a couple hundred years," he said pouring a cup of coffee almost strait down his throat, "of course that was before he shoved a Zanpakuto between my shoulder blades--twice," he looked over at Ichigo, "so I have some bad news for you but the fact is that I don't give a shit what happens to Soul Society--hell I don't even care about _this_ world--so whatever help you're trying to get from me isn't going to happen Pumpkin-head."

"So I take it you don't know where the other Vizards are," he muttered.

"Oh for fucks sake, does it look like I know where they are?" he demanded, "no. The only people in this loft are me, the nameless woman I had very gratifying sex with last night and you," he crossed his arms, "now out of the three of us the only one who wants to save the world is _you_, not me and definitely not one-night-stand-Barbie in my bedroom."

"Well let me tell you--"

"Save it," he snapped, "you blew through every security measure in Soul Society, stole a gigai from the Urahara shop and flew over 6,000 miles only to be told that the one person you thought could help is telling you to shove it," Ichigo arched an eyebrow, "which leads us to the best lesson I can give you," he smirked, "always have a backup plan," he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, "the door's that way."

"Shinji," he said.

"Soul Society's getting karmatically bitch-slapped and there's nothing you can do about it," he snapped, "least, not with my help."

"Hold on--"

"I'm not listening to you," he said, "door's that way."

"But--"

"Fine! Lets make this difficult!" there was a bang and suddenly Ichigo found himself on his butt in the middle of the street.

"I hate my life," he muttered swiping his hand over his face, "so much for being a hero."

"I wouldn't say that, Kurosaki," a cool voice said, "The world beating you down has never stopped you before."

"Uryuu?!"

**AN PLEASE HELP AN**

**And here's Uryuu! But he's not with the rest of 'em. Nope, Uryuu, Ichigo and Shinji are the U.S.A. at the moment. Why is Shinji being so bad? Well, stay tuned! Unfortunately I need a bit of help at the moment. So, not to spoil you, but will someone PLEASE tell me what Hollow Ichigo's name is?! I've heard Ogihci and Hichigo the most but I've hear others too. So if you wanna make my day/night leave it in your review or send me a PM.**

**Thanks!**

**AN THANK YOU AN**


	9. Strength

**Note's at the end.**

VioTanequil **is freakin' awesome.**

**And thanks to everyone who helped with my request last chapter! **

_Something was tight around his neck._

_He couldn't._

_He couldn't breath._

_He could choke out one word, one desperate question he would never hear the answer too._

_"Why?"_

Ulquiorra jerked awake, his hand clutching at his throat as though he was trying to throw off some invisible opponent. No-one was there, just him and the empty room with the white boards. He closed his eyes, running a hand through his shoulder length hair. He wasn't a fool, no matter how much he sometimes wished for ignorance, he knew exactly what the nightmares were. Always the same, that room with the antiseptic smell, the thin wire that slowly strangled the life from him as he fought back but could never free himself.

He was seeing his death.

A Hollow was, simply put, a soul that hadn't moved on. There was a variety of reasons for that, fault of Shinigami or the inability to move for some purpose. Hollows didn't usually remember their lives once they became Hollows, especially not Hollows like him who were Vasto Lords. Just as the Chain of Destiny corroded, so did their memories until it was impossible to remember _where_ the rage came from, just that it ruled you. He had remembered the anger, he had forgotten what it was like to know _why_ he felt like he did, just that he knew caring about other people was a mistake.

Until Orihime showed up of course. Then he began to care, to trust, to love again. Sleep had always been troubled for the former Espada, but that was not something that he had thought about really. The only person he knew who actually slept very well was Grimmjow and that, he knew, had far more to do with physical activity than a lack of nightmares. But he had started to notice that frequently when he had nightmares and remembered them they were all the same. They were of being strangled in a pristine room, of being murdered. He woke up, adrenaline pounding through him, and half-thought that he would touch his neck and feel the wire there. If he could only see who killed him...

"Ulquiorra!" he stood up and walked over to the door, opening it to reveal a less-than-happy looking Grimmjow Jeagerjaques.

"What?" he demanded, "did Soifon kick you out again?"

"Ha ha," came the sarcastic reply, "we need to talk."

"I assumed that was what we were doing," he said but stopped when he realized that Grimmjow was rubbing sleep from his eyes. He frowned, "did you have a nightmare?"

"Yes, but," he let out a frustrated breath, "you were in it."

"I was in it?" Ulquiorra arched an eyebrow, "how can you be sure?"

"Okay, I'm in this room," he said, "someone grabs my hands behind my back and they shoot me," he motioned to his stomach, "there. And then they say, 'Ulquiorra's going to know you're a traitor.'."

"And then?" Ulquiorra prodded.

"What the fuck do you mean 'and then'? I get shot! Then I obviously die! And the guy, he stands so close, I could kill him with my bare hands but they're held behind my back and it's so damn frustrating!" he glared at Ulquiorra, "what about yours?"

"I'm in some very clean room, sterile room," he said with a shake of his head, "and someone strangles me but I can never see them," he sighed, "I've been having the dream for a while now."

"A while? Hold on, why didn't you tell anyone?" Ulquiorra said nothing, "damn it I just had this dream and you're telling me you've been having thes--these--"

"Flashbacks," Ulquiorra said coldly looking away, "despite being 'cured' we are still Hollows, we still have unfinished business in the Living World," he closed his eyes, "and we are going to have to deal with it sometime," he stopped.

"Not to be the voice of reason but how the fuck are we supposed to do that? It's been a while since we died. Fifty years at least. Whoever killed us is obviously dead."

"Yes," he said with a frown, "and what if the people who killed us became Arrancar?" he turned around, "what if they want to finish what they started and are working with whoever the hell is doing this to finish it?"

"_Killing_ us wasn't enough?!" he demanded, "Fuck, what do they want to do? Kill us again?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps they have nothing to do with this," Ulquiorra said looking at the white board and was silent for a moment, "this means we knew each other in our lives," he continued.

"Ugh you're right," Grimmjow made a face.

"Well if your memory is correct then someone framed you," he said, "I probably hated you because of that when we met again."

"You hated me?" Grimmjow asked with mock-hurt, "I had no idea!"

"You threw me in a _negacion_ field," Ulquiorra pointed out dryly.

"You just can't let that go," Grimmjow grinned, "don't you know, that's how I treat all my friends."

"That would explain so much," Ulquiorra said dryly, "where are you going?"

"I'm going to ask Nel and Halibel if they've been having the dreams too," he said, "who knows, maybe we're all involved in some big murder-mystery plot," he laughed, "that'd be pretty funny if we all knew each other."

"Hysterical," Ulquiorra muttered as Grimmjow walked out. He looked back at the board in front of him before he felt the presence in the room. He turned around to see a woman who looked far more like she belonged at a ball than in the middle of a battle. Still he had no doubt that she could kill him before he head time to move, after all he had fought her before, "Benihime," he said bowing in respect to the Zanpakuto.

"Ulquiorra," she said with a smile, "I have decided to help you," she said, crossing her arms, "Kisuke is determined to work with hair samples or some such nonsense and _I_ decided to come and help you since that would be far more amusing."

"I am honored for your help," he said, knowing better than to object to the Zanpakuto spirit.

"Now," she turned to the board, "what do you have so far?"

"Just that," he said.

"Well that's your problem," Benihime said, "you're thinking about this the wrong way," she looked at the board, "_who_ was attacked is irrelevant, what matters is _what_ was taken from them."

Ulquiorra could have kicked himself.

"Of course," he said grabbing the marker, "their Zanpakutos," he looked at the names and was silent for a moment but that moment was clearly too long for Benihime.

"Well Nel and Chojiro were _obviously_ side effects," she said erasing their names with a flick of her wrist that literally blew the section of the board with their names away, "these are the ones to focus on," she fell silent for a moment.

"I'm up!" Lily jumped up with a yawn, looking around, "hey, what's _she_ doing here?" she glared at Benihime.

"Helping," the Zanpakuto spirit said with a roll of her eyes, "Kisuke bored me."

"Totally understandable," Lily said, "he can be a pretty boring guy," she jumped onto Ulquiorra's shoulder, "hey hey, what happened to the board?" she looked at Benihime.

"Erasing is boring," she said with a wave of her hand.

"So we're going a different route," Lily said inspecting the board, Interesting."

"Do you have any idea what these things have in common?" Benihime asked looking at the fairy on Ulquiorra's shoulder.

"Well duh," she said with an eye roll, "they're all Elemental -based Zanpakutos."

**Break**

"Captain Hitsugaya, I must caution against this," Unohana said as the Captains struggled into his normal robes, her eyes strayed to the pink glow over his chest, "you're not ready to leave the Fourth Division."

"I appreciate your concern, Captain Unohana, but I cannot just sit here," he tied the belt of his robe, "my Division is concerned enough without me lying here like some invalid," he shrugged into his Captain's robe, "even without Hyourinmaru I still am able to control ice and I am still able to use Kido. If I can be of some service in this war I will be."

"Will you at least consent to come in for a checkup once a week?" Unohana asked, almost exasperated with the Captain.

"Yes," he said with a grudging sigh, "I will," she nodded.

He walked out of the Fourth Division, feeling rather light without Hyourinmaru. One of his hands came up to rub the spot on his chest, feeling the un-natural warmth there. What Hinamori had done was to shield his connection to Hyourinmaru, using her own Kido as a sort of living band aide. The connection was still there but there was a sort of shield between him and his Zanpakuto. When Hyourinmaru was back she would remove it and restore the connection. In essence he had a lock on his connection to Hyourinmaru and Hinamori held the key.

"Up already, Toshiro?" Hinamori asked falling into step next to him.

"I got bored," he said dropping his hand to his sides, "I feel weird without Hyourinmaru," he said with a grumble.

"I'm sorry," she said grabbing his hand between her own and giving it a gentle squeeze, "I'm sure that Hyourinmaru feels the same," she looked at him, "we'll get him back."

"I know," he said with a nod.

For a moment they were silent as they walked down the way.

"I was thinking," Hitsugaya said finally, "when I get Hyourinmaru back we should get married."

"I thought we already were going too," she said with a teasing smile.

"Of course," he said, "but I think we should do it right after I--" she glared, "we, get Hyourinmaru back," he corrected, "we should get married."

"That day?" she asked raising an eyebrow.

"Or the next, but not longer than that," he looked over at her, "I don't want to wait any longer than that."

"Good," she said with a bright smile, feeling her cheeks heat up, "I don't want to either," he looked at her, "that's good," she said, "alright fine, the day _after_ we get Hyourinmaru back, I'll marry you," she finished with a happy smile as they arrived at his Division, "I have something for you. I talked to Tobiume and we agreed that Hyourinmaru would want you to protect yourself so--" she held out a simple black Katana, "here."

"Hinamori?" he looked at the blade in her hands, his own limp by his sides, "I can't--"

"You're good with a sword," she said, "you've fought with Hyourinmaru as a _blade_ not just as a Zanpakuto. He'd want you to be safe," she said, "He'd want to have you to come back too."

Hitsugaya looked at the sword. He knew that he was being silly viewing carrying another blade as a betrayal but he couldn't help it. The only sword he had ever carried was Hyourinmaru. And now Hinamori was asking him to carry another blade. Even if it wasn't a Zanpakuto, it was still a sword and it was not Hyourinmaru. Even so, he knew that if he died Hyourinmaru would as well. They were too interconnected for them not too. He looked at Hinamori's pleading violet-brown eyes. When had he ever been able to refuse her anything? Apparently that day was _not_ today. His hands closed over the black leather-wrapped hilt as he tied the blade around his waist. Even if he was carrying another sword he wasn't going to carry it as he had Hyourinmaru.

"Thank you," Hinamori said wrapping her arms around his torso.

"You're right," he said with a shrug, "but I'm blaming you when we get Hyourinmaru back," she laughed but nodded against him.

"Fair deal," she said leaning back, "now I'm down a Vice Captain so I've got to go do paperwork," she turned to go.

He pulled her back against his chest and kissed her. She smiled into the kiss and returned it, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Finally she pulled away.

"Paperwork," she said firmly walking off. He watched her go, amused as she turned and smiled over her shoulder at him, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. He turned and headed into his Division.

**Break**

"Vice Captain Kurosaki."

Rukia stiffened at the gentle tone of Captain Ukitake's voice. She turned to see her Captain standing in the doorway, a look of gentle concern on his features. She knew that he was worried about her, half of Soul Society was treating her like a glass doll that was about to break. But she wasn't, she had faith in Ichigo for what he could do. Besides, she had to be strong. She had to be. If not for herself than for--she pushed the thought aside angrily. Now as not the time for wondering.

"Captain Ukitake," she said looking at him, "how are you?"

"I'm doing well," he said, "I thought I'd be useful around the office for a change. I need something to do _other_ than resting."

"I understand that," she agreed as the Captain walked over to his desk and began to shuffle the few papers that needed his signature, "those documents need to be signed," Rukia picked up a few other papers, "these need your signature as well."

For a bit they worked in silence. Finally Ukitake spoke up.

"I believe we need to come up with a list of suitable members of our division who can begin to take on more dangerous missions," he said, his voice as casual as if he were discussing the weather with her, "though I don't believe we'll need them for a bit I don't think we should put you in more danger than necessary given your penchant for risk and your condition," Rukia's eyes widened, her hand falling from the pages she was shuffling, "Vice Captain Kurosaki?"

"How do you--" she looked at him, "I'm not even sure myself--"

"You're sure enough to appear very calm considering your husband just went off to the Living World to track down the Vizards," he said laying his own hands down, "I have enough experience to know that you're not being strong for yourself."

"I--" she looked down at her robes before looking back at him.

"Why don't you go and see Unohana?" he suggested kindly, "I'm sure that Retsu could tell you for certain. I'll take care of things here," she bobbed her head in weak agreement. He stood up and looked at the guards who were accompanying him, "why don't you go with her?" he said looking at her, "its not as though anyone knows I'm here," he smiled, "and I'm sure she could use an escort."

"But Captain Ukitake--" the guards began to protest before they finally nodded, "Come, Vice Captain Kurosaki, lets go," the three of them walked to the door.

"Thank you, Captain Ukitake," she said, "and I'll try to have the list to you by the end of the week."

"Thank you, Vice Captain," he said as the three of them walked out.

Ukitake stood and brushed out his robe, walking over to the windows and closing them one by one until the room was sealed off. He walked to the door and made sure it was closed before he sat back at the desk, lit a lamp, and finished signing the documents that would be needed by his Vice Captain. He picked them up and carefully placed them in a drawer. He looked at the two pictures on her desk. One was of her, Ichigo and her brother on their wedding day. The second was of her and him, the day she became Vice Captain. The day that he honored Kaien's wishes to see Rukia take his position. He was glad he had waited, the young woman was proving to be exceptionally talented. He knew she was very very close to attaining her bankai. Maybe one day she would be a Captain herself. He liked that idea, if for nothing else than the pride in Byakuya's face when he saw her get her haori.

"I'm finished," he said, his voice still soft, "and I thank you for that courtesy."

"She's got nothing to do with this," a cool voice said, "and I have no interest in fighting you or her."

"No," he said with a grim smile, "I imagine you don't," he looked over at the cloaked figure that stood in the room, "may I ask how you became so powerful?"

"I was always this powerful," came the reply, "I simply did not know how to use it, not until my eyes were opened to the truth."

"And that truth is?" he asked.

"God has abandoned us," Ukitake shook his head, unable to fully contain the laugh from his lips, "what could you find funny?"

"God has not abandoned us," he said, "He has abandoned you."

He could almost feel the anger coming off the man who would kill him. He was glad he had sent Rukia and his Guards away. He didn't want to have any more innocent blood spilled, especially not that of Rukia and the newest Kurosaki. He had sealed every possible entrance to the room. It was not vanity, just a simple fact that if this man was going to take over Sogyo no Kotowari, then he was going to kill a lot of people.

Ukitake didn't want that.

Truthfully Ukitake didn't want to die. He had sensed a presence, something even he couldn't identify, behind the doors. He had done the only thing he could which was to send everyone away and make sure that if someone died, only _he_ died. He had been sick for a very long time and he knew that if his death led them closer to avenging Yamamoto then he would died gladly. His only real regret would be leaving Shunsui, Shinji--who he had missed but never really told he missed--and Retsu behind. Retsu, oh _God_ he didn't want to leave her. For that he was truly was sorry.

"No, God hasn't abandoned me," came the reply from the man, "For I am the only one worthy."

"And what makes you worthy?" Ukitake asked.

"I am pure."

**AN**

**Wow, if that didn't just slam it home, well, nothing will until I fully reveal who it is. **

**For those of you going WTF?!, stop. Everyone's just as confused as you (well, not me) and how this came to be will be explained. Just stick with me here. Something big happened to make this a reality but please PLEASE don't freak. I promise to explain!!**

**Ditto with the elemental-zanpakto thing.**

**AN**


	10. The Hermit

**AN**

**Go to the end for the note. ** VioTanequil rocks

**AN**

"And now I am one step closer to finishing Aizen's work," came the last thing Ukitake heard as his own Zanpakuto about to end his life. The blades crossed, but he kept his eyes open, unwilling to die like a coward.

"Hae! Sukai Tentousama!" someone shouted, "Hikaru!"

The golden blast repelled the attack with the brute force of someone with a lot of power and very little training. Kohaku's feet struck the ground with enough force to send shockwaves up his legs but he didn't care. This man had attacked his mother, his family, his friends. He was going to make him pay, no matter what Uncle Byakuya said. He roared and thrust Sukai Tentousama forward.

"Hikaru!"

The golden energy roared down the length of the blade, shooting out the tip and slamming into the space where the cloaked man hand been. He shot the attack again and again, wishing he knew more about his blade but knowing there was no time to learn. The man appeared in the window.

"Not bad, you truly are your parent's son," he said, saluting him with the Zanpakuto he had stolen before vanishing.

"Captain Ukitake!" the doors were slammed open by Nemu, "Kohaku!" the Vice Captain took one look around before Kohaku's knees gave out and he slammed into the ground, the world spinning at an alarming rate, "Kohaku!" she raced over, laying a hand on his back, "Spiritual Pressure exhaustion," she diagnosed, "You'll be alright," she looked at Ukitake, "We need to get him to the Fourth," she turned to him, "Can you walk?"

"I can stagger," he gasped out, sealing his Zanpakuto and putting it into its sheath.

"Good," she said with a smile before she pulled the 13th Division Captain onto her back.

"Go ahead," he ordered, "I'll be alright," she nodded and took off.

Kohaku staggered to his feet clutching the wall. The world lurched again, black flickering at the edges of his vision. A familiar arm slid around his waist, another guided his arm over a broad pair of shoulders. He looked over to see his father helping him to his feet. Though he gave the illusion of helping him walk, he really was almost carrying him.

"Dad?" Kohaku choked out the word.

"Easy, is okay," Urahara said, "come on," he guided him towards the 12th Division.

"Fourth's that way," Kohaku slurred out.

"The Eighth Division's been attacked," Urahara said keeping his voice low as he led him into the doors, "easy," he eased Kohaku into a chair, "Spiritual Pressure exhaustion," he said, "you used your Zanpakuto too much."

"Yeah," Kohaku said trying to shake off the feeling of sleep, "dad?" he looked at Urahara, "I'm scared," he said finally.

Urahara's eyes softened as Kohaku looked down almost guilty. He knew that Kohaku sometimes felt pressure from the Elders to "redeem the Clan" or from the rest of Soul Society because of both his natural talent and who his parents were. He didn't know when he had gotten 'cool' in the eyes of Soul Society; honestly he had been a screw up for so long that he didn't even pay attention when the whispers of disdain became those of admiration.

Urahara had first approached fatherhood rather like he did a science experiment. He knew the mechanics, a basic overview. There'd be a kid, the kid would grow up and that was that. No-one had told him that when Unohana handed him a screaming bundle of blankets every scientific thought in his mind would go flying out the window. Even if he had married into the Shihouin House he had never really considered them his family. He had considered Yoruichi his family, of course, but suddenly this baby, his _son_ was in his arms and he could barely move. At least he hadn't passed out; he had a feeling that if he did Yoruichi wouldn't forgive him.

Things had just gotten stranger from there.

From Byakuya Kuchiki showing up to watch Kohaku to Nemu loosening up around the unpredictable child, Urahara had learned that it was pretty much impossible to approach parenthood with an analytical mind. It was by far the best adventure he had in his entire life. He had always found Yoruichi fascinating, he still did. But Kohaku, Kohaku was nothing short of enthralling. Whenever Urahara thought he knew the kid he'd do something unpredictable, like turn into a cat or unseal his Zanpakuto.

Sometimes it was easy to forget that he was, really, just a kid. Sometimes it was easy to forget that he was a father and a husband as well. At the moment though, all three of those things were unforgettable. Urahara knelt down, placing his hands on his sons shoulders and bringing their eyes level.

"I know you're scared, I am too," he said, "and your mom, she is as well, but being scared isn't going to do anything. It's not bad to be scared, its bad when the fear takes you over, when you can't move. And I know you're not like that," he grinned, "you just tried to blast that guy apart," Kohaku offered a weak smile, "so, its okay to be afraid, but we have to remember that this family has been _owning_ anyone stupid enough to hurt us or our friends for centuries. That's what you're really the heir too, not that Shihouin stuff."

"The ass kicking stuff," he said.

"Yeah, the ass kicking stuff," Urahara confirmed, wiping the lone tear streaking down his son's cheek as his eyes drifted shut.

"That's better than the Clan-honor stuff," he said with a sleepy smile, "can I go to bed now?"

"Yeah," he said picking his son up, "come on," he smiled, "let's get you and Sukai Tentousama to bed."

"G'night Dad, love you."

"Good night," he smiled, "I love you too."

**Break**

Halibel may have been many things, but stupid was not one of them, at least not when it came to other people.

So she picked up on the change in dynamics in the main room of the Division immediately. Sun Sun, for all her shyness, rarely blushed and it wasn't that she did now, but her hands twisted much more than usual. Hisagi on the other hand seemed like he had to restrain himself from murdering anyone who so much as opened a door. She had read his file and knew about the incident that had scarred him. Knowing him, she had a feeling that he couldn't bear to loose another person.

She liked Hisagi, to be frank. She knew that he had hoped that Soul Society would allow Kensei, the man he had joined the ninth Division for, to return as Captain. Instead he got her. She had worked for the same man that his former Captain had betrayed Soul Society for. She knew that couldn't be easy for him, to have her just come in and he was expected to listen to her. She had thought that he would tell Soul Society to fuck off and leave. But he hadn't. He had be the first one to throw his weight behind her, so to speak. His Division trusted him, especially after what happened with Tousen. When he gave his support as Vice Captain the rest of the Division began to trust her.

That was probably the reason she hadn't threatened him within an inch of his life the first night she saw him walk Sun Sun home. Or the second. Or the third. Frankly she had lost track by now. Sun Sun seemed to be fine with it though and despite her quiet demeanor she knew her 3rd Seat could take anyone down if she really needed too.

"Capta--" the three of them froze as they all felt Spiritual Pressure echo through them, "that came from the 8th," Hisagi said, horror in his eyes.

"You two stay here!" Halibel ordered using Shunpo to get to the 8th Division.

The unconscious form of Ise Nanao was slammed into her with the force of the wind blowing from the Division. Halibel grabbed the younger woman and landed, her feet sliding across the floor from the blasts. She slammed against the wall, barely managing to protect her head from slamming into the wall and cracking her skull. She remembered that Shunsui's Zanpakuto was wind-based. Lowering herself, Halibel kicked off the wall and used the momentum to shunpo back and out of the impromptu battlefield, back to her Division.

"Sun Sun!" she passed Nanao to her, "take her," she said, "Hisagi, you're with me."

"Yes, Captain," he said drawing his Zanpakuto.

"I need you to give me an opening."

"He's using Katen Kyokotsu," Hisagi said turning his head, "alright," he looked at his Captain, "I may not be able to nullify the effects more than once but if we take him by surprise I can give you some kind of opening."

"That will do," she said dropping her Zanpakuto to the side.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Anyone whose tried to help has been killed by their Zanpakuto," she said, "I'm going to use Shunkou," she added throwing her haori off as well, "let's go."

The two appeared just out of reach of the wind. Hisagi drew his Zanpakuto.

"Reap! Kazeshini!" he shouted, turning his Zanpakuto into its Shikai.

"On my mark," she said, "in 3, 2, 1, now!"

Hisagi blasted the wind, forming a gap in it like a tunnel. Halibel shot forward, the familiar power of Shunkou surging up her spine and down her arms. She raced into the wind, feeling Hisagi move slightly forward to allow himself greater reach. She saw the unconscious form of Shunsui. Knowing his Zanpakuto was lost she shut her eyes and grabbed him around the waist. It was very hard to do but she powered down her Shunkou and let the wind slam her back. There was a sharp pain and something wet on her cheeks but she ignored it. Her face quickly went rather numb from the powerful blasts. Apparently whoever was fighting wasn't very good at controlling because the wind did _all_ the work for her.

She slid back, skidding against the ground before Hisagi managed to slow her progress. He grabbed her around the shoulders and shunpoed the three of them out of there.

"Captain--we've got to get you to the Fourth," he said.

"Why?" she demanded hotly, though it hurt to speak.

"Captain your eyes," he stopped, "we need to get you there quickly."

"What's wrong with my eyes?" she demanded angrily. He guided her hand up and touched her fingertips to the skin. She could feel the wetness on them even if she was incapable of opening her eyes, "not again," she groaned wiping her hand on her pants, "get him to the Fourth. I'll be fine!"

"You're in shock," Hisagi began.

"Hisagi get him to the Fourth Division and leave me. That is an order!"

"Bel Bel?"

"Nel!" Halibel turned her head in the direction of her friend, "there. Go, Hisagi, take him. I'll go with Nel," she said.

"Right!" Nel raced over, "hold on," she said, "here," she wrapped her headband around Halibel's eyes, "no sense in making you _more_ scary Bel Bel," she said helping Halibel to her feet, "come on," she said straitening up, "lets go find Orihime okay?"

"That bad huh?" Halibel said with a grimace as she felt the first twinges of agony.

"Let's just say for now I get to be the pretty one," Nel said as the two of them hobbled down the way. Halibel felt people come racing past them.

"Captain Halibel?"

Halibel wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Out of all the things she did _not_ want to happen, meeting Captain Kuchiki when she couldn't see was one of them. Actually it was probably the last thing she wanted. So in addition to the blood streaking down her cheeks, she could feel the heat coming onto them as well. She felt Nel stop and was forced to do the same with her own feet.

"It seems you have a talent for getting injured saving others," he said.

"Oh, like you haven't done it before," she choked out, feeling the agony in her eyes twinge.

"Fair enough," he said, "may I?" he took Nel's place and Halibel felt his arms slip under her knees, "I am going to use Shunpo to bring you to the Fourth Division," he told her.

She felt the familiar jerk but his Shunpo was much smoother than anyone else. When he landed, the motion barely swayed the edge of his cloak. He made no comment about her eyes, simply maneuvered them through the crowed until he found Orihime. It was not unpleasant being carried, just rather strange. Halibel didn't think she had been conscious and carried before in her entire life. It wasn't awkward. Byakuya seemed to be one of those rare people who could do silence without making it very awkward.

A rare thing.

"Orihime," Byakuya approached the woman.

"Oh my God, Halibel, hold on!"

"Really, I'm alright," Halibel said as the woman took the headband off. Orihime quickly said the incantation, the magic working as the world came back into focus. Halibel blinked in the bright light, "you can put me down now," she said to Byakuya who inclined his head and righted her, "thank you, Captain," she said, fighting down the embarrassment, "I must go see to my Division."

"Captain Kuchiki, can you go get Momo for me?" Orihime asked, "I think Captains Kyouraku and Ukitake are going to need her."

He nodded and vanished. Halibel walked quickly to a deserted room, closing the door behind her. Inside the bathroom she looked at herself in the mirror. Blood dripped down her eyes; she looked like a slightly more colorful version of how Ulquiorra used to look like. Shaking her head she pulled a paper towel down and wet it, wiping the blood off her skin. She frowned as the area around her eyes felt overly sensitive. Katen Kyokotsu's wind must have numbed the skin. Orihime's magic helped it regain its sensation. She thought she liked the numbness better.

If only she could find a way to transfer that to the skin of her shoulder where the lack of Byakuya's hand made the skin seem much colder than it had any right too.

**Break**

As he watched the woman he slept with the previous night leave in a cascade of blond hair and red silk, he knew what Ichigo was thinking.

'What the hell happened to you?'

To be honest, he didn't know himself. He supposed somewhere between being betrayed by pretty much everyone he knew, twice, he had decided that he didn't care anymore. Where the hell had caring ever gotten him honestly? So he did the one thing he vowed he would never do and he gave up. He didn't even say goodbye. He was simply there one minuet and the next he was gone. There was a damn good reason he was one of their 'unofficial leaders', if he wanted too, Shinji could have pretty much _owned_ the Vizards with one hand tied behind his back.

He had always been rather lazy though and when he had _tried_ to change he had wound up being a Hollow. Not exactly a ringing endorsement for changing your ways. So after the last time he decided that enough was enough and up and left. He didn't know if the other Hollows had tried to find him or if he was truly on his own. he imagined that if he ever did try to go back to them they would be pissed, sure, but they'd probably except him back eventually. Or maybe not. He didn't think it mattered anymore. He wasn't going to go back.

See that was the problem with how the Vizards had existed. They had existed by _trying_ to make their world like the home that had effectively told them to get the hell out. Like a child longing after their parents they had tried to simulate the world that was no longer welcoming to them. It hadn't really worked. So this time Shinji decided he was going to make a clean break. No Vizards, no Shinigami, no Soul Society, no Hiyor--he cut himself off. Some days were easy, some days were hard and some days were like the one he was about to have. The one where Ichigo Kurosaki showed on his doorstep while he was still trying (and failing) to drink away the aftershocks of Yamamoto's death.

See, Shinji was old. Much, much older than he would tell _anyone_. He had been in that first class with Shunsui, Jushiro and Retsu. It was back before the four of them were the impressive Captains, back when Shunsui's twin Zanpakuto spirits constantly argued and wouldn't listen to their master. He had watched Jushiro get himself electrocuted and Retsu learn that banking a hard left on Minazuki was harder than banking a right and if the thing didn't get a pet or some kind of praise than getting it back into its sheath was about as impossible as keeping Shunsui sober for extended periods of time.

The four of them had been the first graduates of the academy and he doubted they had such a memorable graduation since. He and Shunsui had done what they did best and got absolutely hammered the day before. They had launched into a rather hilarious--or so they thought--commentary on the speeches given. The two of them were bad enough sober but intoxicated? Forget about it. He had practically danced to the podium, dipped the woman back and proclaimed undying love for her. Shunsui had staggered to the podium to accept his diploma and came very close to making sure that everyone past the last name K was going to have to wait a bit. Yamamoto had the last laugh though by refusing to let Retsu and her wonderful healing cure their hangovers.

They had become Captains shortly after graduation thanks to their talents. The long sleeve thing had been a joke between the four of them. Yamamoto had the sleeves and one day Jushiro swore he saw him store things in them. Like an extra ink brush. The four of them had been in disbelief until one day the Commander General had been walking down the way and pulled a whole Onigiri out of his sleeve.

The four of them had demanded long sleeves. Aizen had long sleeves on his Captain's robe too. As if he needed _another_ another reason to hate the bastard.

Shinji felt the burst of Spiritual Pressure and turned, ready to tell whoever the hell was in his apartment to get out.

The accusation died on his lips as he faced the pale form of Retsu Unohana. She looked horrible; her hair messed from its normal braid and her white haori no-where to be seen. She had appeared in his apartment, a very rare thing. People mistakenly thought she was only good at healing but the fact was that if she was pissed enough Unohana could kill anyone she wanted. She had just demonstrated some of that power by breaking through Soul Society's defenses, his own defenses, and just _appearing_ there. He frowned and started forward.

"Retsu?" he questioned

"Shinji," she closed her eyes tightly, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you. I just--I need to be somewhere else and you were the only person--"

He crossed the room, his hands grasping her shoulders. Despite his earlier words to Ichigo, this was Retsu, one of his oldest friends.

"Retsu, talk to me," he ordered, "what's going on?"

"It's Shunsui," a sob wracked the normally composed healer's frame, "and Jushiro--" she looked up at him, her eyes tear filled, "They've been attacked."

"What?" horror filled him. The both of them? But they were… "What do you mean--are they alive?!"

"F-for now," she tried to swallow her sob but failed, "but I don't know for how long--" her eyes squeezed shut, "Shinji I--" she sobbed, "I don't know what to do!"

"It's alright," he said cutting her off and wrapping his arms around her, "It's okay," he closed his eyes, one of his hands running up her back as her sobs began in earnest, "It's going to be okay," he closed his eyes.

So much for not getting involved.

**AN**

**So yeah, Shinji's in, Ukitake and Shunsui are alive!! Unohana's a bit hysterical and oc but that's because she's just had her two oldest friends almost die. Oh and where's Yoruichi? Well...she's a bit busy at the moment.**

**AN**


	11. The Wheel of Fortune

**AN**

VioTanequil **rocks! Here's the next chapter!**

**AN**

"So," Sun Sun said to the man who had become her virtual shadow, "Are you going to follow me everywhere or do you want to ask me on a proper date?"

"Do I _what_?" Hisagi was too shocked to be 'cool'.

The third seat rolled her eyes, put her hands on her hips and looked at him tersely. They must have made a funny picture standing there. Him the quiet genius who had survived betrayal, Zanpakutos and everything in between. Her the petite former Fraccion who had fought her way past cave ins, being a Hollow and the entire Soul Reaper academy to become a seated officer. But here she was, even if she only came up to his shoulder, looking up at him as though she was waiting for him. He was still too shocked to move which got him an eye roll from her.

"You are a ridiculous man," she said jamming a finger into his chest, "I've been waiting for you to ask me out since Ichigo and Rukia got married and you saved me from those crazy men. Now the world's ending, you're being over protective and I want to know if you're finally going to ask me out or if--"

It had been years, admittedly, since he had kissed anyone. The last person he kissed was Matsumoto in a fit of drunken horniness. He had never _told_ anyone and prayed that no-one ever found out. That had been a decidedly unpleasant experience. This was a bit different. Truthfully he had trouble letting people get close. It seemed like when he did they either betrayed him or died. Sun Sun seemed rather determined to do neither. So she used to be a Hollow, big deal. He didn't care. Honestly he had been trying to ask her out since Ichigo and Rukia's wedding but between restoring peace, killing Hollows and trying to convince the Ninth Division that having two very highly ranked, former Hollows as officers was a good idea, he didn't have that much time.

But the world was ending and he was being very overprotective (he didn't want her to die) so he closed his eyes and pressed his lips against hers. He figured it would be less awkward if he were drunk but he doubted she'd forgive him for a drunken kiss. It was a pity his eyes were closed. He missed Sun Sun's widening in surprise. That was _not_ what she had been thinking. She had just blurted that out. But he was kissing her and it felt--it felt nice she decided finally as she let her eyes drift shut and let herself kiss him back. It felt very, very nice.

"Ahem."

They broke apart and turned to see a less-than-pleased looking Halibel standing behind them, her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed into the thin line that both were painfully aware meant 'anger'. Sun Sun ducked her head and swallowed thickly, her eyes going from the ground to Halibel. Hisagi met their Captain's gaze squarely, no apology in his eyes and only the smallest bit of fear.

"I suppose it would be pointless of me to explain _exactly_ what I'll do to you if I catch word of any unhappiness," Halibel said stepping forward before looking between them, "there will be no making out in dark corners for the Division to see, you two fight you deal with it _outside_ of the office, we are Soul Reapers and we are in war, this is not a Make Out Paradise book is that clear?"

"Yes," Sun Sun said.

"Yes," Hisagi echoed.

"Good," she walked past them, "Carry on," she sighed with a wave of her hand as she disappeared into the office.

"So," Sun Sun turned to him, "were you going to ask me out?"

"Yes," he said with a sheepish grin, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, "let's go get lunch."

"Okay," she said falling into step beside him, "so how _did_ you get that 69 tattoo?"

"Have you ever heard of Kensei Muguruma?"

**Break**

"You are a fucking asshole."

It came as no surprise to _anyone_ that Shinso was a fox. After all, given who his shinigami counterpart was anything else would have been rather strange. Shinso was a fox, a silvery-grey creature that was much more elegant than a fox had any real right to be. A t the moment he did not look particularly elegant, lying curled around himself as he tried to sleep to regain his power. Until Gin got his ass home he was luck to be existing at all at the moment.

Apparently that didn't matter to Haineko.

Shinso peeked with one ruby eye, taking in the cat-form of Matsumoto's Zanpakuto. It was clear that Haineko was _not_ amused enough to be happy to see him.

"Is this all the greeting I get?" he asked with a yawn, "its been fifty years after all."

"Fifty years too short," the cat snapped, "you _killed_ me, remember."

"Funny, you don't look dea--ow!"

"_She_ might not remember but _I_ do and _I_ am not happy!" the cat snapped haughtily, lowering the paw that he had used to slice across the foxes nose, "how are you still alive?"

"I should be asking you that," the fox said dropping his head down to his paws again, "not that it would matter. You're here, I'm here, we're going to have to work together."

"No, no we don't," Haineko snapped childishly. Shinso arched an eyebrow, "we don't! I don't want to work with you, last time I tried to do that I seem to remember you _stabbing_ me! I don't want to be stabbed again!"

"Oh please, I was hypnotized. Besides, you look fine to me," he said rolling his eyes.

"I am _not_ fine!" the cat snarled.

"Fine enough to yell at me," came the snappish reply, "we should just be glad that we're not all--" he trailed off, "who are you?"

Standing a little ways off was a massive brown bear, though it seemed rather harmless at the moment. In fact, it seemed rather happy to be sitting there watching the two of them fight.

"I'm Joukai Ki," he said, his deep voice echoing, "Oscar's Zanpakuto spirit," he folded his paws, "I've been rather bored for a bit but you two are _very_ interesting," he laid his head on his paws, "keep fighting."

"We are not fighting!" the two of them shouted in perfect, practiced unison. Joukai gave snort and shook his head.

"Did you two date or something?"

"No!" Haineko shouted.

"Well... its complicated," Shinso said with a grin, "define 'date'."

"Shut up shut up shut up, I was _killed_ by you! That is a deal-breaker!"

"And you came back to life," Shinso said standing up and stretching, "besides, I saved the world, twice, for you."

"You did what?" Haineko arched an eyebrow, "huh?"

"I saved everyone," the fox said cockily.

"Bite me," the cat snapped.

"I'd _love_ too," Shinso said rolling his eyes, "even if we weren't dating."

"Are you two normally this dramatic?" Joukai asked looking between the two of them.

"He is," they said in perfect unison.

As their Zanpakuto spirits argued the metal they commanded was very very busy. Or, at least, Gin Ichimaru and Shino were.

"Shoot to Kill, Shinso," Gin practically purred, throwing out his wrist.

Despite being, by Masaki's calculations, at 75 power, he and Shinso had been through a lot worse and come out on top anyway. This was no different, it was rather like turning the volume to half on a stereo. He and Shinso were still perfectly synched, perfectly capable of murdering anyone they felt like. At his command Shinso extended and sliced neatly through three of the targets before withdrawing with equal speed and smoothness.

"Wow."

Gin turned, unaware that he had an audience. Standing behind him was Oscar Yasutora, his eyes wide. Gin lowered his hand and looked at the young man. It was strange to see a young man wearing Sado's face but carrying a Zanpakuto. Though he was not as incredible as his uncle, Oscar was a respectable Shinigami in his own right. Given his heritage everyone was rather optimistic that the young man would achieve bankai relatively soon. Gin had a feeling that would happen with some help from Kisuke Urahara.

"Oscar, right," he said looking at the young man, "you're here to trai--"

"Fight me," he said, his eyes fixed on Shinso. Gin arched an eyebrow, "dude," Oscar looked at him, "you _have_ to fight me. I can hold my own against Uncle Ichigo--"

"That is not a terribly hard thing to do," Gin said dryly.

"Yeah, but come on, you're not at full power," Gin arched an eyebrow, "please? Please?!" he looked at him, "come on you have to fight me!"

"I don't _have_ to do anything," Gin said crossing his arms.

"But you're _Gin Ichimaru_--"

"Captain, Captain Gin Ichimaru," he said.

"You're Captain Gin Ichimaru! You're a legend! You helped end the Winter War! You saved everyone from Las Noches! You're the most badass Captain I've ever heard of, you didn't become a total wuss when you became good!!" the young man seemed ten seconds from throwing himself on his knees.

"Alright, alright fine! Get up," Gin muttered running a hand through his hair.

Gin had never really liked sparring. Even when he was in the academy his sparring matches were infamously short. Pretending to kill someone seemed rather, well, pointless to be frank. Why would someone _pretend_ to kill someone else? Swearing Gin watched as Oscar picked up his own Zanpakuto, painfully aware of the fact that he was turning into Byakuya fucking Kuchiki. Putty in the hands of anyone younger with him.

Fifty years had passed since Gin had saved everyone' s ass. Fifty years of regaining the glory that he had always seemed destined for. Kira had been the first to accept him back. To be honest he thought he could have succeeded in burning Soul Society to the ground and as long as he had a valid reason Kira would pretty much forgive him. Everyone had been so wrapped up in the fact that Aizen's brainwashing of Hinamori began the night he saved her, Renji, Kira and Hisagi from the Hollows that it was easy to forget that actually _he_ had been the one to save them. Kira hadn't forgot, Kira had fought hard to be his Vice Captain and been just as hurt by his betrayal. If not for the fact he sucked at brainwashing, Gin had a feeling he could have just as easily been like Momo. But he hadn't. Instead of sulking Kira had spent the time between when Gin left and Gin returned getting hammered with Rangiku and Hisagi and apparently, if rumors were true, calling him 'Gin-pig'.

Gin knew he deserved a lot worse.

It was strange, existing without a mask. He had worn one for so long to so many people that once he was laid bare he felt like everyone could see right through him. He always thought of his mask as a kind of defense. If people hated him because they couldn't see the real him then he couldn't be _that_ unlikable right? If they didn't know him, they could only hate who they thought he was, not who he really was. He didn't have that security, not anymore. And, as it turned out, though he sometimes got on people's nerves, he wasn't as unlikable as the thought everyone would think.

He still missed Ran. At first it had been every day he visited her grave. As his duties resumed it became every week. Now it was every month, he would visit her and just sit there, near the remains of the last proof she had been alive at one point. He didn't speak of anything important, sometimes he didn't speak at all. Kira wouldn't comment when he came back to the division, if he came back at all. He wouldn't get drunk those nights either. He would simply sit and remember. Being good wasn't _that_ bad, but he wished that Ran would be there. After all, the whole point of the side-switch was to be with _her_ but she was dead. By his own hand, she was dead.

"What are you two doing?" came the terse demand.

Well she wasn't that dead anymore. No, she was standing a few feet away, hands on her hips and Haineko belted at the small of her back. Her hair was down and even if the black she wore was a t-shirt and pants, it was close enough to the Shinigami uniform to make his heart stop for a moment in his chest.

_Its not her, its not her, its not her_

He repeated mentally. It wasn't Ran. This was Mitsuki, Ran's re-incarnation. This was a woman who _looked_ like Ran, who _acted_ like her, but who was _not_ her.

But, why then, did she summon Haineko?

"We're sparring," Oscar said with a grin, pulling out his Zanpakuto.

"Ha," she laughed with a shake of her head before walking over to a stump and sitting down, "this'll be great."

"Shut up. I am going to be _great_!"

"You're turning into Byakuya fucking Kuchiki," Shinso muttered.

"That means you're going to be Senbonzakura," Gin said lightly. effectively shutting his sword up as he faced Oscar, "your move."

"Right," he held his sword, horizontal, in front of him and wrapped both hands around the pommel, "Ri-Chi, Joukai Ki!"

The sword lengthened and narrowed before, in front of Gin's stunned eyes, it separated. Oscar pulled his hands apart, each hand holding the edge of a narrow long hook. The hilt of each hook was wrapped in the same leather as his sealed Zanpakuto, a dark reddish brown tassel hung off the small blade of the right hook while a dark bluish green one hung off the blade of the left hook. Oscar's feet shifted into a fighting stance, holding the hooks as extensions of his hands.

Gin shrugged, he'd take it easy.

"Shoot to kill, Shinso," he sand throwing out his wrist.

Never one to back down, Shinso streaked forward. What neither were expecting was for Oscar not to go back but under Shinso in a lunge, using the twin hooks to wrap around the spear, throwing Gin's balance off. Gin withdrew Shinso, the sound of metal on metal making his ears hurt. Oscar rolled, throwing one hook up and catching the other's handle. With a quick flick of his hand he threw the conjoined weapons out and hooked them around Gin's foot, flipping him upwards.

Gin twisted mi-air and landed on the ground. Oscar grinned and shifted his stance. He brought the hooks down into the ground.

" Tsuru Tora!" he shouted, throwing the hooks up, the large rock cradled in them went flying upwards. Oscar whipped around, giving the rock two quick hits that sent it flying towards Gin.

Shinso cut through it easily but it was impressive none the less.

"You're earth based," Gin said.

"Yeah, that's right," Oscar said, "my Zanpakuto's the only earth based Zanpakuto--"

"Captain Ichimaru!" Masaki appeared at the stairs, "Ulquiorra needs to talk to you!"

Gin frowned and walked up the stairs after her. Masaki passed him the phone. Gin picked up.

"Ulquiorra?"

"Elemental Zanpakutos," the green eyed Vice Captain groaned into the phone, his normally cold voice filled with frustration, "I figured it out too late."

"Elemental Zanpakutos? How do you figure?"

"Yamamoto's was fire based, Yoruichi's was a metal-based, Hitsugaya's was half water, half air, Ukitake's was half water half lightening--between the two of them he has one complete water Zanpakuto--Kyouraku's was air based."

"Ukitake, Hitsugaya and Kyouraku were attacked?!" he demanded, "why was I not inform--" there was a bang as the door to the training area slammed shut. Gin dropped the phone, his mind searching through the Zanpakutos for one that would be a powerful earth-based Zanpakuto. Senbonzakura didn't count, but, "Oscar--" he took off.

"Gin?!" Masaki called but the Captain paid her no heed. He raced over to the door and tried it but it was sealed, "Gin?"

"Stand back!" he ordered, "Hado 63! _Raikohou_!"

Yellow light made the door and whatever was holding the door nothing more than a memory. Gin raced down the stairs, knowing that his power was less than it should be and it was going to take a lot to keep Oscar and his Zanpakuto from falling into the hands of whoever was doing this. Gin had been yelled at by Karin Yasutora for a hell of a lot less. If he got her grandson injured he had a feeling that Sado was going to be carrying him back to Soul Society. He raced into the training room to see a cloaked figure, Oscar and in between the two was Mitsuki.

"You're in the way, girl," he snarled, drawing his Zanpakuto.

"I don't care!" she said stubbornly, her eyes shining with determination to protect her friend.

Gin's eyes widened, knowing he couldn't get there in time. Mitsuki looked at the blade that was going to end her life. She saw Oscar and Gin preparing to do something very, very stupid but somehow she knew it wouldn't make a difference. She swallowed painfully as time seemed to slow. She didn't care. She was willing to die for her best friend, even if she had hurt him. Even if that meant that she would never really know the ruby eyed man or the twins wearing glasses. It didn't matter. She heard that when you died, right before, your life flashed before your eyes. The problem was, the life she was seeing, it wasn't _hers_.

_Eat this, you must be hungry._

_You want to control this? You have to become a Shinigami_

_Gin, please! Gin!_

_Can't you,_

_Can't you see?_

_I've always needed you--_

With a burst of shunpo she vacated the spot right before the Zanpakuto would have hit her. Instinct took over as she landed, spinning around to face the man.

"What the--"

"Hado 54! Abolishing flames!" she shouted. The flames crashed into the ground where he had been moments before but he jumped out of the way, "Growl! Haineko!"

The blade dissolved but instead of remaining just ash it formed the large cat for which it was named. Gin raced forward, standing in between Oscar and the cloaked man. With Haineko on the other side, he was effectively trapped.

"This," he said, "is not over."

With a reverberating sound he vanished.

"How the hell did you do that?!" Oscar demanded, "you should be dead Suki!"

"Suki?" she turned around arching an eyebrow, "why are you calling me Suki?"

"Huh? Because--because that's your name," he said.

"No," she said looking at him, "my name is Matsumoto Rangiku," her eyes hardened as she looked at Gin, "and I'm going to kill you, Ichimaru Gin!"


	12. Justice

**AN**

**Okay, welcome to the double-update!! I've had this chapter sitting around but I wanted to wait until the next one came out because though its important I knew if I didn't give you SOME Gin/Ran you all would kill me. So here you go! 2 for 1!! **

Viotanequil **is a great beta-reader!!**

**AN**

"So much for being a hero," Ichigo muttered, swiping a hand over his face and glaring up at the windows of Shinji's apartment.

"I wouldn't say that, Kurosaki," a cool, familiar voice said, "the world beating you down has never stopped you before."

"Uryuu?!" Ichigo cried as he stared in unabashed shock at the Quincy.

Personally, Ichigo knew he did not look like he had aged much, if at all. Uryuu on the other hand looked as old as he was. His hair was completely grey but still hung down in the same odd style. He was dressed in an off-white suit, a white tie spotted with (what else) Quincy crosses was knotted around his neck. Ichigo would have bet Zangetsu that Uryuu wore the Quincy Cross under his shirt. Uryuu said nothing, he simply pushed his glasses up higher on his nose in a gesture Ichigo hadn't realized how much he'd missed.

"Hello Ichigo," he said as Ichigo pushed himself to his feet.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, feeling irrationally stupid.

He had not seen nor heard from Uryuu Ishida in, well, fifty years. He knew that it wasn't their fault they had died in the Winter War but the last of the Quincy's had a duty to his people. Even if he could be friends with Ichigo when Ichigo was a Shinigami substitute, between Ichigo becoming a _full_ Shinigami, his crush choosing an Espada over him and all his friends moving in the same direction except him, Uryuu had quietly ducked out of their lives. The last time Ichigo had seen him was at his wedding, the last time they had any contact was about a year after when he got a letter from him saying he was leaving Japan.

Ichigo couldn't really blame him. If he had been in Uryuu's shoes he would have probably been understandably upset as well. The Quincy had drifted into his thoughts every one and while but Ichigo couldn't remember the last time he had thought of what Uryuu Ishida was up too. He knew that he had to let Uryuu live his life among the, well, the living. Uryuu's eyes swept the surrounding are, as though he half expected someone to jump out of the shadows and attack them.

"Uryuu what are you doing here?" he asked again when there was no answer from him.

"I live here now," Uryuu replied.

"Seriously?" Ichigo's eyes widened, "you _live_ here?"

"Yes," Uryuu said, a bit of his old terseness slipping into his voice, "I told you I left Japan. I traveled for a time and I wound up _here_."

"In Boston."

"Yes, in Boston," Uryuu snapped, "my sons have gone back to Japan--"

"Your sons?!" Ichigo shouted. Uryuu looked upwards, as though he was praying for strength before turning to Ichigo, "you have _kids_?!"

"Yes, Ichigo, I have children," he said speaking to Ichigo as though he was a five year old.

"How many?"

"Two, they're twins. Ryuuken and Souken," he said, "come, we shouldn't linger here, Hirako has a talent for attracting trouble."

"So you had twins and named them after your father and grandfather? Didn't you hate your father?"

"After the Winter War, my father and I became," he sighed, "we became close."

"That's good," Ichigo said with a grin, "that's really good," he looked over at him, "so, you had sons, what do you do now?"

"I'm a doctor," he said.

"Make sense," Ichigo smiled, "so, uh, how do you know Shinji?"

Uryuu said nothing, he simply led Ichigo to a park near the waterfront, a space open enough so if there was any sort of attack they could deal with it easily.

"I traveled the world, searching out other Quincys. I wanted to know that I was not alone in the world since my father refused to acknowledge that. I found them. Not always called Quincy's but the general idea was the same. I knew that what we did to Hollows disrupted the Balance and it was precarious as it was," he sighed, "so though we trained in the Quincy Arts, we evolved them."

"Evolved them?"

"We learned how to purify Souls," he said, "many of us were simply tired of being useless. Shinji assisted us in learning how to do that."

"I thought you were never going to work with a Shinigami again," Ichigo said, feeling a bit hurt.

"It was necessary," Uryuu said darkly before his eyes went to Ichigo, "we need to convince him to teach you."

"Huh? Why?"

"The entire world that is even the slightest bit in tune with the Spiritual World has felt the waves of these attacks. Everyone knows something big is coming and even though it pains me to say it, even I know that the hero of this tale is going to be _you_. So, in other words, we need to have you trained by someone who knows how Aizen Sousuke would train someone else to fight. And the only person who knows that is Hirako Shinji."

"What?"

"That's why you came here--"

"No, I mean, why him? There are other Vizards out there!"

"Shinji Hirako practically _trained_ Aizen," Uryuu drawled, "the man graduated along with Captain Kyouraku, Ukitake and Unohana. Winter War aside, I don't think he's participated in a battle in the last two hundred years that required him to use even a fraction of his power. If he hadn't been thrown out of Soul Society--twice--it is not unfathomable to think he would be the next Commander General!"

"How do you know so much about Hirako Shinji?" Ichigo asked.

"Would you stop asking so many damn questions?" Uryuu snapped looking around, "Alright, I asked someone to meet us here who _might_ be able to help with our problem."

A blood red car slid neatly into a parking space, the color so bold and bright among the other vehicles that his eyes were drawn to it. He should have been more surprised to see a far more adult form of Sarugaki Hiyori emerge from the confines of the car. Her hair was down around her shoulders, no ribbons or barrettes to be seen. She wore low slung jeans and a black leather jacket. The outfit left a few inches of skin between the denim and the leather. Ichigo swallowed thickly as she walked forward to stand between them.

"Thank you for coming," Uryuu said with a respectful incline of his head. She gave the barest incline of her own, her eyes hidden behind the sunglasses she wore.

"It's been a while, Ichigo," she said, her voice cooler than he remembered.

Ichigo felt like he had fallen down the rabbit hole and gone to wonderland. Nothing was making any sense. The bratty little girl who had tried to kick his ass was gone, replaced by a woman. Hirako Shinji --who was apparently a _lot_ cooler than Ichigo had previously thought--was having one night stands and drinking. Uryuu had found other Quincy's and knew how purify Souls. And he somehow knew the Vizards. Ichigo's head hurt. He knew it was silly to think that the Living World would move as slowly as it had in Soul Society but when he saw the world he had once been a part of changing so quickly, he couldn't help but wish that it would.

"Um, yeah--"

"You're still as useless as ever," Hiyori snapped when he stumbled over his words, "he just threw you out huh?"

"Yeah," Ichigo said looking down.

"Drama queen," Hiyori muttered walking back to her car. She ducked inside and grabbed something, appearing a moment later with what looked like an art tube, the kind people used to store drawings in. Slinging it over her shoulder she walked back to them, "What?"

"You draw now?" Ichigo asked.

"No, I don't draw," she said rolling her eyes and uncapping the tube to show him her Zanpakuto, "you can't just go walking around with a sword here, you'll get yourself arrested," she looked at them, "What did you do, Uryuu? You're looking guilty."

"I--"

"Hiyori!"

Hiyori turned around to see Muguruma Kensei walking towards them, hands casually dangling out of the pockets of his pants. He too was dressed differently, no longer looking like a punk but rather almost like a businessman. All his piercings were gone except for one in his left ear and that had been replaced with a small stud.

Next to him walked Kuna Mashiro. She too was dressed in an almost business-like garb. Her green hair was still, well, green but when walking next to Kensei with his grey hair, it did not seem quite as strange. The two of them each carried the same kind of narrow tube that Hiyori carried, Ichigo realized that they held their Zanpaktos. They walked over to where the three of them were gathered, inclining their heads in greeting. The air was heavy with the tension they brought and Ichigo wondered if he hadn't managed to find a possibly _more_ dramatic situation than before.

"I've contacted the two Vizards who will be equally important to your training," he said motioning to Kensei and Mashiro, "but make no mistake, this _will_ fail without Hirako Shinji."

"What exactly will fail? I came here to ask for help from Shinji, but you seem to have this worked out a lot more than I do."

"Yes, Ichigo, I do," Uryuu said, "I told you, the _Spiritually Aware_ community," Ichigo winced at the jab, "has been feeling the shockwaves from the Commander General's death since it happened. There are not many of us, but we do know what we're doing. As far as we can tell, there's only one way to get you ready to defeat the one who is doing this before the King appears to pick the new Commander General."

"And how's that?" Ichigo demanded, having a feeling that he wasn't going to like the answer at all.

"We're going to find Hichigo!" Mashiro said happily, "So you can finally get the rest of his power!"

**Break**

The book was useless. Ulquiorra sighed and shook his head as Ayame bobbed her head in meek agreement and hauled it back. Ulquiorra was trying to figure out what the hell elemental Zanpakutos could be used for. It made no sense that someone would be _collecting_ Zanpaktos. After speaking to Gin he knew that the Shinigami Captain had kept Oscar Yasutora and the precious Earth-based Zanpakuto safe. But that gave him no clues as the _why_ someone would do what this man was obviously doing. Lily rubbed his shoulder sympathetically but even she didn't know.

"Ulquiorra."

Ulquiorra looked over to see Ise Nanao standing at the end of his table. Her eyes bore signs of crying, her hands clenching the book she was never seen without in her hands. The attack on Shunsui had been hard on the poor woman. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that the woman loved Shunsui and that he reciprocated her feelings. Watching someone you love fight against an enemy you couldn't help was hard, Ulquiorra knew that first hand. Still she had come from her vigil over Shunsui to speak to him.

"Vice Captain Ise," he greeted, "is there something--"

"I realized that the attacks were not on the Captains but their Zanpakutos," she said, "I didn't realize it until Shunsui--" she trailed off, closing her eyes against the oncoming tears, "I think I know what they're doing."

"How?" Ulquiorra couldn't contain the surprise in his voice.

"Because I've read about it," she said gently placing the book on the table. Her arms wrapped around her mid-section immediately, "before she left, Vice Captain Yadomaru and I, we were reading a book--" she nodded towards the thick volume, "This is it."

Ulquiorra leaned over the cover of the book.

"The Sword and the King?" he looked up at her.

"It's a fairytale," she said in a voice that made him think it was probably the _only_ fairytale Nanao Ise had read, "It talks about a sword, one that had all five Elemental spirits working in perfect unison--"

"There are four elements," Lily interrupted as Nanao sat down.

"Not necessarily," she said, "in some legends, and in this one, there are five. The fifth is metal."

"Yoruichi's Zanpakuto," Ayame whispered.

"The story is about a Royal Guard who fell in love with the Royal Princess. In secret, they began a love affair. But the Princess's father, the King himself, discovered them. In a fit of rage, he cast the Guard out of the Royal Dimension and banished him to Soul Society. He condemned him to eternal service, always being close to the Spirit Realm but never being able to go inside and be with the one he loved."

"The Shinigami was no fool. He knew that the Commander General he served would die and when he did he knew that he would be able to steal the Princess and make her his forever. The way he saw it he had two options. He could either kill the King or he could do something to make himself worthy of the hand of his daughter. So he decided that the only thing to do was to wield the greatest Zanpakuto the world had ever seen, one that could kill a King, one that was worth the hand of a Princess."

"But alas, there was no sword to be found that could suite the Shinigami's needs. The love he felt for the Princess was too real and far too powerful to be ignored. He could not give up. The Shinigami's Zanpakuto held the answers. It was unique in that his Zanpaktos could take the powers of other Zanpakutos. Though sometimes it was weak if it fought against weak opponents, other times it was strong, stronger than any other Zanpakuto in Soul Society."

"An idea came to the Shinigami one day as he walked around in the confines of his Division. He saw the way that the world seemed to work together, each element working in harmony with the other. This Shinigami had five friends, each as pure as the element they wielded. Upon hearing of their friend's predicament, they willingly came forward and offered their Zanpaktos to help him."

"Using the flow of their elements and the power of their friendship, they created the strongest Zanpakuto the world had ever seen. The power of it was great enough to lure the King himself out of his dimension and into Soul Society to investigate. Though the Shinigami had wanted to kill him and steal the Princess, one look at the love she held for her father and he knew she would not forgive him for blood spilled on her behalf."

"The Shinigami's friends made the decision and willingly offered their Zanpaktos and their blood if it meant happiness for their friend and his Princess. Surprised by the sacrifice that his friends and the Shinigami himself were willing to make, the King realized that his daughter truly loved him and he loved her. He thus gave him his daughter's hand willingly."

"The only thing that remained was the Zanpakuto that was worth the Royal Princess. The blade was truly the greatest ever seen in Soul Society. Knowing that whoever possessed it would be able to kill the King, the King split the Zanpakuto into its original pieces and returned them to their owners. The King forbade another Zanpakuto like that from ever being created and decreed that in all of Soul Society there could never been five Elemental Zanpakutos again."

"But what happened to the Guard and the Princess?" Ayame gasped out, spellbound by the story.

"They lived happily ever after, of course," Nanao said before she turned to Ulquiorra, "if this is true, who ever is doing this is creating a sword capable of killing the King."

"But, this is a fairytale," he said motioning to the book, "something like this couldn't even exist."

"Not necessarily," Nanao said, "it's not perfect but if you think about it, he's tailored it to suite his needs. He had to take two water-based Zanpaktos since each only used half water, half something else--but still element based--and the rest all make sense as well. Each of the blades that was stolen was taken in a way that would ensure blood from each of the Captains--the sacrifice in the legend--was taken with them. Basically he has the blades and the blood, but it all depends on his Zanpakuto. He would have to have a Zanpakuto that could take control of someone else's."

"And then he would have a weapon capable of killing a King, even if he didn't have the power to do it himself," Ulquiorra finished hollowly.

"He would be able to finish Aizen's work even if he was not as powerful as Aizen himself."

"Thank you, Vice Captain Ise," he said stiffly standing up, "should you go and sit with Captain Kyouraku?"

"No," she said stubbornly, "Captain Kyouraku is about as useful at the moment as he usually is. Momo sealed his connection to his Zanpakuto so he'll be fine," she picked up her book and pushed her glasses up onto the bridge of her nose, "I want to help you."

"I--" he swallowed and then nodded, "very well. I need to meet with the other former Espada. I think I know whose trying to do this."

"I'll go and speak to Kohaku," she said, "he should be awake by now and he may be able to give us more insight into the attacker."

"I have faith that Ichimaru Gin is doing fine with guarding Oscar but if who I think is behind this is, he might be the only one who can help."

"Why?" Nanao asked with a frown.

"Because Ichimaru Gin is possibly the only thing that scares him."


	13. The Hanged Man

"I'm going to kill you!" Matsumoto threw out her hand.

"Ran--"

"Don't call me that!" she snarled, "you lost the right to call me that when you betrayed Soul Society!"

Gin didn't think now was the time to tell her he had never really stopped calling her that. He heard a sharp inhale behind him and remembered that Oscar was probably very confused at the moment. He didn't have time to explain anything to him. He also couldn't send him upstairs, not with whoever was doing this so close. He had to keep him near, he had to protect him but using Shinso near Matsumoto was not really an option. So he did the only thing he could think of.

He went into the so-rarely used 'Captain mode' and did his best impression of an infuriated Byakuya Kuchiki.

"That's enough Matsumoto!" he snapped, the coldness and seriousness in his voice making her freeze. Gin took that opportunity to sheath Shinso and walk over to her, "sheath your Zanpakuto," he ordered, "_now_."

"Don't tell me what to do," she spat, "Traito--"

"I am _ordering_ you as the _Captain_ of the Third Division to sheath your Zanpakuto," he snapped, "or I will hold you in contempt of Gotei 13."

"You? You're not going to hold _anyone_ in anything!" she snarled, her fingers flexing and controlling the ash that was ready to blast him to pieces, "you betrayed everyone!"

"You've been out of it for a while, Matsumoto," he said, his voice still cool, not betraying the storm of emotions raging inside of him. True to form Matsumoto didn't care what he was saying.

"I don't care!" she snapped, her eyes showing nothing but pure, unadulterated anger mixed with an overwhelming desire to murder him.

"Sheath it," he repeated, instead of telling her to just go ahead and kill him, "_now_."

"What are you going to do? Stab me again?" she spat.

He looked away sharply. Clearly she remembered only the part where he stabbed her, not the part where she died. Though Haineko seemed all too willing to obey his master's commands, Shinso looked like he was going to be sick. Gin did as well. Something in the room changed as the door above the stairs opened. Gin didn't dare move a muscle, neither did Matsumoto.

Oscar's eyes flicked between Gin and Matsumoto, the overwhelming question in his mind was 'where's Suki?'. Even he could see that the woman standing there was not her. His eyes went to the stairs as Masaki appeared on the landing. Two figures bolted down the stairs, one jumping over the banister and landing clearly on the other side of the training ground.

"If you'd prefer to keep it out, we'd be happy to help," Souken said, one hand extended holding his light blue bow of energy in his hand.

"Yes," Ryuuken echoed, his own bow glowing from the other side of training ground.

They held Matsumoto and Gin at point blank range. Even if Gin did not think Quincy's were as strong as Shinigami he knew that at this range he was pretty much fucked. If these two had even half the power of their predecessors they were very _very_ strong. Somehow he had feeling that they had a lot more than half that power. Matsumoto's mind seemed to be working along the same lines, though her hands had yet to seal Haineko away.

"Who the hell are you two?" Oscar demanded, "Hey, you two are Quincy's!"

"He's an observant one, isn't he brother?" Souken spoke up.

"Yes he is," Ryuuken said, "now can you Shinigami behave?"

"I will if he does," Matsumoto snapped.

"He is not the one with the Zanpakuto out," he pointed out dryly.

Matsumoto looked up with surprise and realized that actually she was the only one with her Zanpakuto out. Gin's was sheathed and the kid behind him was clutching his sealed Zanpakuto as well. With a low curse she waved a hand and sealed Haineko back into its blade. The two Quincy's traded a glance and slowly lowered their weapons, the bows vanishing. They glanced at Gin and Oscar before looking at Masaki who stood at the top of the stairs.

"We've finished our sweep of the area," Ryuuken said, his eyes flickering to Matsumoto and back, "there are no disturbances here."

"Good," she said, "thank you," she added before looking at Gin, "Urahara's on the phone, he'd like to speak to you."

Gin nodded.

"Come on," he said to Oscar, "you're staying with me."

"Huh? Why?" the teen demanded

"Because you might be the key to ending the world," Gin snapped, "come on," he motioned to the stairs.

"But what about Suki?" he asked.

"Just get up the stairs," Gin said motioning. Knowing better than to argue with the Captain he went up the stairs. Gin followed, not daring to look down at Matsumoto. He took the phone from Masaki, "Urahara," he greeted.

"Captain Ichimaru! I take it you saved Oscar. I always knew you were brillia--"

"She remembered," Gin snapped, "Matsumoto, she remembers _everything."_

"Remembers you say?" Urahara grinned, "Well I can't say it's not the strangest thing in the world--"

"What? Why isn't it? I thought she was just--she was just her reincarnation!" Gin hissed into the phone, "not Ra--Matsumoto," he sighed, "She still thinks its fifty years in the past."

"My deepest sympathies," Urahara said with a wince, "what's happening is a very rare phenomenon. See unlike humans when Shinigami die they are automatically re-entered into the reincarnation cycle, no questions asked. Since souls are automatically re-entered it's not quite as simple as the so-called 'blank slate' that we get when we are born into Soul Society."

"For instance," he continued, "Rukia Kurosaki has very faint memories since she was a baby at the time of her death. Her sister, Hisana, however had what is referred to as a 'complete memory strain'; she remembered everything from her death to her time in the Spirit World. 'Complete memory strains' so to speak, are very rare, especially with spirits. For a spirit to be reborn and remember things, well, that means the Soul was not able to fully let go of their past lives."

"No, I'm not saying that she remembers _thing_s," Gin growled, "I'm saying that she _is_ Matsumoto. Not like Matsumoto. Urahara, she remembers _everything_ up to the point of her--" he grimaced, "death."

"Hmm," Urahara tapped his lip, "well the best I can guess is that your Spiritual Pressure jump-started hers. Only unlike Ichigo who had his own latent Spiritual Pressure, Mitsuki had none. Instead of killing her it just drew Matsumoto's Spiritual Pressure out," he sighed, "but let me see what I can dig up. In the meantime you've got your work cut out for you. If she only remembers up to her death, well," Urahara let his sentence trail off.

"I know," he said, "tell Kira its going to be a bit."

"Of course," he said, "and Gin--"

"Save it," Gin snapped hanging up the phone.

He didn't want Urahara's pity, not over something he knew he deserved. Hell he didn't want Urahara's pity over something he knew he didn't deserve. Pity was something he could never accept. It had been torture enough when he had been forced to be near someone who looked _like_ Rangiku. He deserved to have the real thing there and wanting to kill him. No, he amended, he deserved to have her kill him. For what he had done? He deserved to have her torture him and then kill him.

Matsumoto was standing one of the rooms doing a thorough inspection of the body she was currently inside. There was clearly a fair amount she was displeased with. Turning around Matsumoto glared at him. Gin didn't think he had ever been thrilled at the thought of Ran being furious at him. Rangiku glared furiously at him and then turned back to the mirror. He was reflected in it which was obviously not what she intended. She hung her head and closed her eyes.

"What's going on?" she asked, her voice low.

"You've been dead for fifty years," he said, "when I went to save _her_, my Spiritual Pressure jump started yours. Apparently it was a delayed reaction because that was a few days ago."

"The Winter War's over then," she said.

"Yes," Gin said, "it's been over for a while."

"And you're a, what, a good guy now?" she demanded turning around.

"I wouldn't say that," Gin said scratching the back of his neck, "I am a Captain of Gotei 13 ag--" he stopped and frowned as Matsumoto's eyes widened, "what?"

"What _happened_ to you?!" she gasped running over and yanking open the front of his robes to reveal the ugly scar in its entirety.

The scar of the wound that had almost killed him.

Because he had tried to save the world, for her.

"During the war," he muttered pulling his robes closed.

Matsumoto sighed, even if she was blind she could see that something had changed in Gin Ichimaru, something she wasn't sure was a good thing. Maybe it wasn't a bad thing but she didn't know enough to understand. All that time had passed, what had happened while she had been gone? She looked at Gin and crossed her arms under her slightly smaller chest with an unhappy glance downwards before her eyes rose to his again.

"Start talking," she grumbled.

"Huh?" his eyes widened in surprise.

"You heard me! Start talking!" she snapped glaring at him.

**Break**

"You've got to be fucking joking."

The four former Espada were gathered around a table in a small meeting room in the Fifth Division and Ulquiorra had just voiced his suspicions. Halibel seemed to be considering the information carefully, Nel seemed to be in shock and Grimmjow, well, Grimmjow never really failed to voice with everyone else was thinking but not saying.

"I'm not joking," Ulquiorra said, the weariness that seemed to have taken root in his body present in his voice.

"No, no fucking way Mr. Chew-Your-Sandals is doing this! He couldn't form a sentence last time we saw him, much less come up with something like this!"

"In terms of raw power, he was equal to any of us," Halibel said, her voice smooth and methodical, "given the right tools it's not unfathomable to think that he could pull something like this off."

"Are you _listening_ to yourself?! This guy is fucking--" Grimmjow stopped, "well he is pretty crazy."

"Yes, he's crazy and if he's the_ only_ Espada, if he's the last remnant of Aizen Sousuke, there's a chance he's managed to gain support from the remaining Arrancar, Hollows, maybe a few rogue Shinigami even. He's had fifty years of hiding and being able to take his time to do this. All Aizen would have to do was given him the ability too and I don't think that would be terribly hard for him."

"Excuse me?"

They all turned to see Captain Ukitake standing in the doorway. He looked, actually, he looked pretty much the same as he usually did. Pale, sick, but he was alive and walking around. Momo Hinamori's pink seal glowed faintly through the fabric of his robes. Standing a bit behind him was Nemu Kurotsuchi who had been ordered that if he did anything close to stumbling she was to carry him back to the Fourth Division, no excuses made.

"Captain Ukitake!" Nel shot up to her feet, "should you be walking around?"

"I'm alright," he said, a faint smile on his lips, "I've been sick for a long time. I managed to speak with our would-be villain before he attacked me," he said his voice rather light as though the attack had been a fist fight instead of someone trying to murder him with his own Zanpakuto, "I wanted to tell you the information myself."

"We would have come to the Fourth Division," Ulquiorra said.

"I do not want to create a panic," he said with a gentle shake of his head, "or more of a panic, rather," he added.

"I understand," Ulquiorra said, "please, sit down."

"It's alright," Ukitake said, "as I was saying, I managed to speak to him."

"What did he say?"

"He said that he was the only one worthy, that he was finishing Aizen's work and that he was pure," he said calmly.

"It's gotta be him!" Nel snarled, surprising everyone with the ferocity in her voice, "Somehow Aizen--Aizen _fixed _him! He had him waiting all this time just to fuck us over! That explains the blond hair, the messages on the wall saying that we were 'traitors'--everything!"

"I am going to _murder_ that bastard," Grimmjow growled balling his fist up.

"Attacking him would be pointless," Halibel said coolly, "this is clearly Aizen's fail safe. He's had Wonderwice groomed for this for a long time. He needed to have the opportunity though since there was no earth based Zanpakuto yet and he also needed to recover Yoruichi's. He clearly knew that if he did was somehow defeated in the Winter War that years later he would have another opportunity to get a shot at the Spirit King."

"But, but its Wonderwice," Grimmjow groaned sitting down heavily in the chair.

"Yes, Grimmjow, Wonderwice Margera is trying to end the world in the name of Aizen Sousuke," Halibel said, her voice hard.

"Fucker just won't die," Grimmjow sighed looking up at the ceiling.

"May I ask you something," Ukitake said looking at them, "when was the last time any of you saw Wonderwice before the battle in Karakura Town?"

"Don't look at me, I was still _rotting_ in the desert," Grimmjow muttered unhappily crossing his arms.

"I did not see him before I left Las Noches," Halibel said with a frown, "my Fraccion and I were preparing for the battle," she continued, "and then I was _stuck_ with Barragan and Stark," she made a sound of disgust.

"I did not see him at all," Ulquiorra said, "my priorities were elsewhere."

"Yeah like falling in love but not making a move on Orihime," Grimmjow muttered. Ulquiorra glared at him.

"Pay them no mind, Grimmjow simply lost a bet," Halibel said smoothly.

"You knew about that?!" Grimmjow turned to the Ninth Division Captain who only offered a small, enigmatic smile in return, "Damnit."

"Aizen must know something we don't," Ulquiorra said, "like when the King is to come and tell us who the new Commander General is."

"Finding that out should be the priority," Ukitake said, "I can speak to Shunsui and Retsu and try to see if we remember anything."

"Thank you, Captain Ukitake," he said respectfully as the 13th Division Captain made his exit.

"Hey, if it's really Wonderwice why don't we just call Gin back here to scare him?" Grimmjow asked looking at Ulquiorra.

"I already thought of that," Ulquiorra said.

"Great minds--"

"Do not finish that sentence," Ulquiorra hissed.

Nel watched their exchange before she got up and marched out of the Division. She didn't think it was unfathomable that an Arrancar could change shapes, after all that was what she had done, but still, to have someone like _Wonderwice_ try to kill them all, it seemed awful. She reached up and tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear. Unhappily she realized that she had used her last hair band to bandage Halibel's eyes. The Tenth seemed so far from the Fifth, but the Sixth...the lock of hair slipped free, making up Nel's mind.

Squaring her shoulders, she marched into the Sixth Division. Byakuya Kuchiki was sitting, his ink brush making clean lines along the fabric. Renji was at his desk as well, his own lines much less elegant than those of his Captains. Nel walked over to him, without a thought to the Captain, and slammed her hands on his desk, upsetting two ink bottles and the Vice Captain attempting to work.

"Nel! What the hell?!" Renji bolted upwards as though someone had put one of Ganju's fireworks on his chair.

"I need a headband," she demanded.

"You need a _what_?!" Renji demanded, shock on his face, "I haven't _seen_ you since Captain Hitsugaya got attacked and the first words you say to me are 'I need a Headband?'" he demanded incredulously.

"Yes!" Nel cried, "My hair's getting in my eyes and I can't stand it one more second. So give me a hair band!"

"No."

"No?"

"No," he said sitting back down.

"You have too!" she gasped in outrage, "Renji!"

"No I don't," the Vice Captain said picking up his pen.

"Renji Abarai you give me a headband or I swear to God when Wonderwice tries to end this world I will _not_ let you hide behind Gin with me."

"Wait, who?" Renji demanded, "The blond one? The one who _gnawed_ on things?" he snorted before cracking up, "that's the best Aizen could come up with? The Tousen-worshipper?" he doubled over laughing, "that's brillia--give me back that headband!"

"Nope," she said dangling the white fabric from her fingertips, "now you can't hide behind Gin with me."

"Damn it, give that back!" Renji shouted jumping past the desk.

Byakuya said nothing, just continued to work as the two argued loudly in the middle of the office. The peace and quiet of Soul Society had been replaced with a kind of breathless hesitation, as though the entire world was holding its breath waiting for it to end. To be honest, the loudness was rather nice actually. It was much easier to concentrate when the two of them were being loud and obnoxious. Byakuya finished the last of the documents with a press of his stamp and stood up.

"Restrain them," he ordered.

Despite their orders to protect him, the Kuchiki guards were still, at their hearts, Kuchiki guards and when Byakuya ordered well, they followed. It took them all of two seconds to have the Vice Captains pinned on either side of the room. Byakuya Kuchiki stood up and swept out of the room.

"You may release them," he said.

"Captain, where are you going?" Renji asked with a concerned frown.

"I am going to the Ninth to deliver these documents," he said, "You may carry on." 

Renji and Nel remained frozen as the guards left them to follow Byakuya out on his errand.

"Did he just say the Ninth Division?"

**AN**

**Yay! We're getting the ball rolling (its about damn time too) Any confusion is universal so please give me time to explain. I know I've thrown at lot at you but it'll be cleared up!**

**Thank you so much**

**AN**


	14. Death

**AN**

**Here you all go! New chapter time!**

Hugs to VioTanequil **for ruling as a Beta Reader!**

**AN**

Hiyori pounded on the door.

"Shinji! Open this fucking th--"

The door opened but her fist cut through the air instead of his face. Behind the sunglasses she had yet to remove her eyes widened. The Shinji behind the door was not the Shinji she knew. This wasn't Shinji, the obnoxious, fun loving, youth-oriented Vizard who proclaimed undying love to anyone (but her) with a pair of breasts. No, this was Shinji Hirako, the former Captain of the Fifth Division who Aizen had to fight in the dirtiest way possible because any other way would result in his death. This was Shinji Hirako who had graduated in the first class with the other Captains, who had loved Yamamoto like a father, who had been betrayed by everyone he had ever cared about.

Except her.

His eyes rose fractionally, taking in the group of them like it hadn't been almost fifty years sine he saw most of them and the last time he saw one of them he threw them out on his ass.

"Get in," he said motioning through the door.

Never one to back down, even if she did _not_ want to go in, Hiyori marched into the spacious loft. Mashiro practically skipped in while Kensei, Ichigo and Uryuu stepped inside like they were going to be attacked any moment. Hiyori frowned and peered inside. Two cups of tea were sitting growing cold on the table and a severed red chord was lying on one of the chairs.

"Unohana told me everything," Shinji said.

"Good," Uryuu said pushing up his glasses, "I picked the three strongest Vizards in their respective disciplines."

None of the Vizards said _anything_. Kensei was looking at Shinji like he wanted to _murder_ him where he stood. Mashiro even seemed to have picked up on the discontent and was shifting her weight from foot to foot, her eyes dancing between the people in the room. The strangest thing was what was going on between Shinji and Hiyori. Or rather, what was _not_ going on. Despite having her eyes hidden Ichigo knew she hadn't look at him. She hadn't touched or spoken to him either.

It was downright weird.

The jangle of a cell phone was enough to make Ichigo jump and the rest roll their eyes. Uryuu ducked out to take the call leaving Ichigo alone with the Vizards.

"So what are you now?" Kensei broke the silence.

"I'm one of the Vice Captains of the Fifth Division," Ichigo said, Kensei arched an eyebrow, "the other is Grimmjow Jeagerjaques."

"Who got my Division?" Kensei asked.

"Halibel."

"Ooo Kensei-meanie," Mashiro grinned, "you got replaced by a girl."

"No way, _Tousen _got replaced by a girl, I got replaced by a trait--damn it Mashiro!"

"You walked right into that one," she said with a grin.

"Shut up!" he snapped, "God, you're so annoying!"

"That's no way to treat me Kensei-meanie," Mashiro pouted.

Ichigo watched their exchange with an unexpected wave of homesickness. He knew what he was doing was right, that he needed to be a hero for them all. But to be honest all he wanted to be was a husband. A Vice Captain. He _liked _no longer being the one who carried all the hopes and dreams of Soul Society on his shoulders. He liked being just, well, just Ichigo Kurosaki. The man who was one of two Vice Captains to the smallest, most badass Captain in Soul Society. He liked being (with his wife) the two loudest people in the Kuchiki Manor. Hell he even liked the fact Byakuya didn't seem to mind they lived there. Rukia said they probably made the place seem like home. Sometimes new recruits, hearing of his old antics, had asked if he was happy being ho he was and he had always answered honestly and that answer was always _yes_.

So why was he here? Breaking rules and seeking help from people he technically shouldn't even be speaking too? Because of the life he loved, because of the life he stood to loose. He had always fought to protect. First to protect his family, then to protect his friends, now it was to protect all of that. Invalidity had never sat well with him. If he had to break rules to protect his home than fine, he'd break every fucking rule that got in the way. Still, he really just wanted to go home to where Rukia was. He wanted to be back where the world made sense, even if he knew he was in for the ass kicking of his life from his wife and from his co-Vice Captain who now had to do both their paperwork.

"Woo Shinji, you have a party last night?" Hiyori asked looking into the bedroom.

"Don't go in there!" Shinji cried bolting after the Vice Captain, "Damn it don't you understand the concept of privacy?!"

"Uh, no," Hiyori said with a smirk, "we're being all buddy buddy now, remember?"

"Well then why don't you take your sunglasses off?" Shinji demanded.

"Fine!" Hiyori grabbed the frames and yanked them off.

Ichigo looked down, his stomach churning. Shinji, Kensei and Mashiro seemed to equally be nauseated by the sight of it. Slicing neatly from right above the inner corner of Hiyori's left eyebrow all the way to the outer corner of her left cheekbone was the pink scar Hiyori had received in the Winter War.

From a hit she took to defend Shinji from his former Vice Captain.

**Break**

"Unbelievable!" Matsumoto said with an almost musical laugh "you do all that and I'm not even around to enjoy it!"

"Sorry, if I could've had you around, you know I would've," Gin said easily sitting back in the chair.

Matsumoto sighed and tried to fight back the smile. All the anger she felt seemed to have drained from her. In fact, if anything she felt almost, well, giddy. Gin, Gin Ichimaru, was sitting across from her with his silver hair and his slightly open ruby eyes. He wasn't trying to kill her, he was just talking to her like they hadn't done in so long. She could see the sadness in his eyes, the absence of his haunting smile and closed eyes. She could see that things had changed. But he was there and for the moment that was enough for her.

Gin on the other hand was fighting the urge to pinch himself again to make sure he wasn't dreaming. She may have been in another person's body, she may have looked a little different, but she was Rangiku. She wasn't trying to kill him anymore either which was a definite plus. In fact, she seemed happy to just be talking to him. The pain of missing her, even when he was in Las Noches, had been so acute he had to adjust to it. And then when she had died, the ache in his chest had just been something he had to deal with. But talking to her now, having her with him, he didn't realize how much he had missed her.

Even Shinso and Haineko seemed too weak with relief to fight which was probably the strangest thing of all.

"So this kid--Oscar--is the key to whatever the person trying to take over Soul Society is doing?" she confirmed.

"Yes," he said, "he's the only earth-based Zanpakuto which seems to be the key."

"And who is this?" she asked pointing at her chest.

"That's Oscar's friend, your, uh, reincarnation. Suki," Matsumoto pouted, looking down at her chest, "they're not that much smaller," Gin pointed out.

"Don't look at them!" she cried crossing her arms over her chest, "you don't get to look at my breasts now!"

"It's a little late for that, Ran," he said.

Inwardly Matsumoto struggled to ignore the heat surging through her. God, why did he still have to be so _attractive_? She was supposed to hate him! He had betrayed and eventually stabbed her. She wasn't supposed to--to--Matsumoto cut the train of thought off. Just because she was feeling it didn't mean she had to admit it. Especially not when Gin's ruby eyes were open, his silver hair falling into his face. Not when he was _good_. One of Matsumoto's many _many_ vices was Gin Ichimaru. Especially when Gin had his eyes open.

"Can't you close your eyes?" she groaned burying her face in her hands.

"Huh? Why?" he asked, one of his eyebrows arching, "you were always after me to open 'em when I was in Soul Society--"

"Since when did you ever listen to _me_?"

Gin grinned. He felt, he felt practically drugged. Matsumoto Rangiku, _Ran_ was sitting across from him. She didn't want to kill him (at the moment), she was just talking to him.

"This is fucking boring," Oscar grumbled from his position on the couch, "can I go now?"

"No!" the two Shinigami said in unison.

Oscar sighed and continued to watch the ceiling. Honestly his _grandparents_ were lovey-dovey enough to last him a lifetime. Well they were when his Grandmother wasn't mad at his Grandfather. It didn't matter that Sado Yasutora was a virtual giant and that Karin Yasutora barely came up to his biceps, Oscar would much rather fight his Grandfather. His Grandmother was terrifying. At the moment though he would take his Grandmother on in a heartbeat if it meant getting out of the room he was stuck in.

Thankfully his phone rang.

**Break**

Grimmjow ducked under the swipe of Suzumebachi, the Zanpaktos leaving a barely visible scratch on his forearm. It didn't matter, scratch or stab the Crest still blossomed as though he had gotten a tattoo. It was an easy hit, one he should have been able to dodge. Vaulting back easily, Soifon landed a few feet away on the mats and narrowed her eyes.

"_What_ is with you?" she demanded, "I haven't been able to hit you like that--" she frowned, "ever," she adjusted Suzumebachi, "what's going on?"

"Nothing," he said with a growl, dropping into a fighting stance, his grip on Pantera shifting, "let's keep going."

"No," she said de-powering Suzumebachi and holding the blade in her hand.

"Shut up and fight me!" he snarled gripping Pantera.

"Not when you're being such a big baby!" she replied.

He lunged forward but she caught him easily on her blade and spun around, kicking his legs out from under him before landing on top of him, her blade pressing into his throat.

"You're distracted," she growled, "I don't fight people whose mind isn't on the fight, they make for lousy opponents."

She glared down at him. He growled and brought his leg up, his knee slamming into the space in between her shoulder blades. She snarled and vaulted forward, rolling off him and into a crouch. He flipped up into an identical low fighting stance. She still made no move to unseal her Zanpakuto. He threw a series of quick hits, the blades of Pantera slicing through air. A few hit her skin but the majority she blocked with her blade. She threw her blade up.

"Sting all Enemies to death, Suzumebachi!" she shouted, the blade transforming and locking onto her wrist, "if you're distracted I'll just have to remind you who you're fighting against!"

"Bring it on!"

The two slammed into each other with the usual blast of Spiritual Pressure. Metal met Metal in their match. Both their Zanpakutos were small and quick and had to be coupled with their respective fighting styles. Even so they were extremely well matched. Usually they would have had an audience to their fighting. The training area would have been packed with people shouting, cheering and putting a lot of money on their battle. At the moment it was deserted, a testament that even the promise of a good fight couldn't shake the mood of Soul Society.

It didn't matter to Grimmjow.

He knew he shouldn't feel that bothered that it was an Espada trying to end the world, he _knew_ that and somehow he was. After all the last time one of them had tried to do it he had been on that side. That had been before he had been turned into a Shinigami, before he had met the petite firecracker across from him who spent their initial time together telling him that he was going to be turned into decor for her Division. Before he had decided Ulquiorra was a pain in the ass but not that unlikable overall. Before Momo Hinamori had taken him as her Vice Captain. Before everything had changed.

"Damn it," he growled, dropping his hands. Soifon swore and barely managed to avoid hitting one the pre-existing butterfly crests on his chest, the crest blossoming on her palm instead. She waved it away before restoring Suzumebachi to its normal form, "sorry," he muttered.

"Grimmjow," she frowned and stepped forward, "Grimmjow what's wrong?" she asked, her voice softening fractionally.

"Nothing," he muttered.

"Grimmjow," she began but he reduced Pantera to its original form and sheathed the blade, turning to go.

"I'll see you later," he said walking out of the training hall.

Soifon looked at the blade of Suzumebachi, trying to fight down the irrational urge to cry. What was going on? She looked at the door that Grimmjow had just exited through. Usually when he walked off it was because of some fight they had. And then it wasn't a 'walk' per se, it was more like an angry stalk that let the entire fucking _world_ know that he was pissed off. She didn't think she'd ever seen him just walk away looking so _defeated_ before. Soifon stared, she didn't really like it. With a sigh she slid Suzumebachi into its sheath. She didn't like it when he was like this, in one of those moods where fighting, sex and brutal honesty were not the cure. She knew he didn't like it when she did it either.

But she couldn't just let him huff off in a fit of self-loathing.

"Grimmjow," she sighed, sliding Suzumebachi into its sheath before shooting off.

It wasn't that hard to find him. He had opted to walk instead of using Flash Steps which made her job a bit easier. Not that much, Grimmjow was crap at Flash Steps so even if he was using them it wouldn't be hard for her to catch him. As it was she aimed and cut the Flash Step off, falling seamlessly into a normal rhythm.

"What's wrong?" she asked, trying to keep the demand _somewhat_ out of her tone, "I haven't seen you cut a fight short--ever."

"Sorry to disappoint," he said. Soifon's eyes narrowed

"Is this about the Espada?" his eyes widened before he looked away. Soifon growled and slammed him into the nearest wall, "listen to me, I can't believe I have to tell you this, but you aren't like that! You never were. You don't go sneaking into unfair fights--for Gods-sake you _brought_ Orihime to heal Ichigo before you fought him. You're not an Espada anymo--"

"Yes I am," he burst out, "or I wouldn't be having dreams of my 'unfinished business' would I?"

"You've been having dreams?" she asked.

"Yes," he said swiping a hand over his face, "me and Ulquiorra, we've been seeing our deaths."

"And?"

"I knew him."

"And?"

"And I betrayed him," he growled, "I'm responsible for his death," he sighed, "and I fucking hate how guilty I feel."

**Break**

Shunsui tugged his haori on.

"Should you be moving like that?" Nanao asked stepping into the room. Shunsui turned around. Nanao's eyes flickered to the pink seal glowing before going to the ground as she gave a small, unhappy sigh, "Shunsui--"

"Could what you are worried about be me Nanao?" he pouted, "how sweet, I should get my ass kicked more oft--ow!"

Nanao lowered her hand.

"Don't you ever say that!" she shouted, "do you know how worried I get about you?!"

"Nanao," he walked forward.

Nanao turned away, crossing her arms with a huff. Truthfully, prying herself from Shunsui and going to speak to Ulquiorra had been almost impossibly hard. She knew there was nothing she could do for him but still...she couldn't help but want to. He had been scaring her with his attitude since the Commander General died. And if he died still acting strange, if she never saw the Shunsui she cared about, the Shunsui she loved, she didn't know _what_ she'd do.

One of his hands went onto her shoulder, the warm from the seal Momo had placed on his chest sending warmth permeating the fabric of her uniform. She sighed and closed her eyes, not even bothering to keep her posture. She knew that of the three oldest Captains, Shunsui was the prime candidate to become the Commander General. He was a great fighter and he didn't get sick. If he did become the commander General, what would happen to him? Would he become serious like the Commander General? She didn't think she'd like if he became like that.

"I didn't mean to worry you, Nanao," he said squeezing her shoulder. She didn't think she'd ever been happy before when his hand slipped easily around her waist, "I'm sorry, Nanao--"

"Who said I was worried about you?!" she snarled turning around and putting her hands on her hips.

"You're beautiful when you're heartless," he said with his old easy grin.

"It takes almost _dying_ to jump you out of your mood?" she demanded, incredulous, "why are you so happy all of a sudden?"

"I dunno," he shrugged, looking out the window, "I guess it just seems, for the first time, like something good might happen."

"Good? Good?!" she wrenched open his robe to reveal the seal, "you call this good?!"

"Gee, if you wanted to get in my pants Nanao all you had to do was ask," Shunsui sing-songed, smirking.

"You almost got yourself killed!" she shouted, "stop acting so damn happy!"

"I thought you didn't like my mood," he pouted.

"Don't twist my words Shunsui!" she snapped, furious.

Shunsui grinned and eased forward, once again wrapping his arms around his Vice Captain. Nanao made a sound of frustration but did not make a move to remove his arms. He knew he was taking advantage of her nervousness for him but it was really sweet and he was a sucker for Nanao when she was trying to deny her emotions. His haori fell around the both of them as her arms dropped to her sides and her eyes drifted shut slightly.

"I'm sorry I've been in such a mood," he said, "and that I worried you."

"I--" she growled faintly, taking her glasses off and pinching the bridge of her nose, "you are the most _infuriating _man I've ever met," she sighed as he turned her around, not wanting to miss the rare sight of Nanao without her glasses on. She glared and shoved the frames back up her nose before she tied his robe shut, "come on, let's get you back to the Division."

"Nanao," he wined as she dragged him out of the Fourth.

Yachiru frowned as she walked down the 11th Division. People murmured their greetings but she didn't pay them any attention. Her mind was firmly on her problem at the moment and that was trying to figure out how she was going to get Byakuya to pull his head out of his ass and see that he belonged with Halibel.

"This would be so much easier if she wasn't as blind as he is," she muttered.

"Who's as blind as who?" Kenpachi demanded.

"Ken-chan!" she turned with a bright smile before hopping up onto his shoulder.

Kenpachi grumbled but said nothing. She may have been much closer to being an adult now but Yachiru still was light. Hell even if she was heavy he had a feeling he'd still be able to carry her. She had decided a decade or so ago that hugging his shoulder wasn't something she liked anymore. In true Yachiru fashion she had just started to ride on his shoulder one day, just ahead enough so that his spiked hair wouldn't poke her. He imagined his shoulder would feel rather strange without her on it.

"What are you scheming now Yachiru?" he demanded glancing up at her.

"I'm tryin' to get Byakushi and Bel Bel together," she said tapping her lip, "but its much harder than I thought it would be."

"Kuchiki and Halibel?" he asked with a frown, "seems like an unlikely pair."

"But they'd be perfect for each other!" Yachiru cried.

"Says the girl whose been terrorizing the Fourth Division," Kenpachi shot back.

Yachiru sighed but said nothing. Terrorizing was a bit strong of a word. It wasn't her fault that the Fourth Division had a few cute guys who couldn't really hold their own against anyone in the Fourth Division, much less the Vice Captain of the Eleventh. Still she was a girl and apparently an attractive one at that and they knew a few good make out spots throughout Soul Society. Her current favorite was Hanatarou. He was just so timid that he never objected to _anything_ and if he did it was always in the strangest ways. Plus he liked candy too. Liking candy was a virtual requirement in her book.

"I have _not_," she said when Kenpachi chuckled faintly, "so how you gonna get those two together before one of them gets themselves killed?"

"That's a horrible thing to say Kenny!" she scolded, "Byakushi and Bel Bel are very tough."

"Ha! Guess you're right," Kenpachi muttered, "So have you go a tunnel ready for when he tells the Elders he brining a former Espada into the family?"

"Yep."


	15. Temperance

**AN PLEASE READ AN**

**Hello! **

**As some of you have probably noticed this story is rated T. As of right now I've kept it in the safely in the T-zone with minor violence, minor coarse language and minor suggestive adult themes. ('cept where Grimmjow's concerned of course)**

**THAT IS ABOUT TO CHANGE**

** I'm hoping to keep it a T-story but if I have to go to M I will. Not to spoil you all but we're going to be dealing with the Espada's back stories, bits of the Winter War and Wonderwice's time in Hueco Mundo, Hichigo...its going to get a bit darker so if you're easily upset then I thank you for reading this far and hope you'll come back towards the end when things should (hopefully) get a bit lighter again. For the rest of you, fasten your seat belts. **

VioTanequil **is, once again, my favorite beta reader--and not just because **VioTanequil** is my only Beta Rader. **

**AN**

"Well it seems we're both invalid," Shunsui said as he sat with Jushiro. Unohana had confined them to the Fourth Division and Soifon had put enough guards on them to ensure they weren't going anywhere.

"Unfortunate, isn't it?" Ukitake grinned.

"How do you _stand_ it?" Shunsui grumbled, "Usually when I'm like this I'm too drunk to even _think_ about moving."

"I think drinking right now is probably a bad idea," Ukitake said.

"Such a stickler, Jushiro," Shunsui said with a shake of his head.

The two old friends and Captains lapsed into silence. It was horrible, sitting there with nothing to take their minds off the man who had loved them like sons--who they had loved like a father. They had seen Yamamoto as far more human than the rest of Soul Society, Ukitake didn't realize how much he would miss him. He was glad that Shunsui was alright though.

"So, she speaking to you yet?" Shunsui asked.

Ukitake shook his head. An idiot would have known that he was planning to sacrifice himself. Retsu Unohana was not an idiot and she was _not_ happy at what he had done. So, for the first time in a while, Ukitake was in the doghouse with Unohana. It was a decidedly unpleasant place to be.

"No," he grumbled, "how do you get Nanao to speak to you when you mess up?"

"I do something stupid and romantic," Shunsui said with a flourish.

"Like clean your desk?"

Shunsui laughed. It was true though, getting out of the doghouse with Nanao wasn't that hard. Ukitake though was such a good guy to begin with he had no idea what the hell he could do to get Unohana to speak to him again. Shunsui knew that Unohana was probably just as worried about Ukitake as Nanao had been about him and probably a thousand times less likely to admit it. The one who would know what to do with their problem wasn't exactly in Soul Society either.

"We should call Shinji," he said.

Ukitake laughed at that one, even though he knew it was right. Shinji was nothing if not a ladies man. Until Hiyori pretty much every girl he had confessed 'love' for had turned bright red and practically thrown themselves at him. Shunsui may have been a flirt but when it came to girls Shinji was the expert in their little group. He had made Unohana blush once, a feat in itself.

Shinji had been Yamamoto's one great disappointment, the son he loved and the son who shamed him. Of course it hadn't actually been Shinji's fault, the Hollowification, but at the time they all thought it was. Shinji had always been a risk taker, a daredevil, the act-before-you-think type who usually got himself into a world of trouble. Sure he got himself out eventually as well but the getting into trouble was the real problem. Yamamoto had warned him but like a rebellious teenager, Shinji never listened. Still Yamamoto had loved him and to the world it seemed Shinji had betrayed him.

Ukitake doubted that even if Shinji had stayed in Soul Society he would have had any kind of relationship with Yamamoto. They may have been close once but there was very little that could withstand two hundred years of that kind of pain. He knew that if there was a single thing Yamamoto died regretting it was the loss of Shinji Hirako, of the man he had loved like a son, the man who would have nothing to do with him.

"So when do you think that the King's going to come?" Ukitake asked.

"And this bastard's going to try and use our Zanpakutos to kill him? No idea," he said with a shrug, "good thing Gin's in the real world with the last piece of the puzzle."

"What about Shinji?" Ukitake asked, "Do you think he'll help?"

"He's agreed to," they both looked at Unohana, "I spoke to him, I told him what was going on, he agreed to help."

"Retsu," Ukitake stood quickly. Shunsui snorted in amusement.

"I went to him in the living world," Unohana continued, "I told him what happened."

"Yeah? How's he taking Yamamoto's death?" Shunsui asked.

"Not very well," she said with a slight frown, "though I doubt he would tell me how he truly felt."

"Eh, Shinji's strong, he'll be fine," Shunsui stood, "now if you two love birds will excuse me, I have a Vice Captain to annoy. Come on you all, let's not get you in trouble with Soifon."

He left the two of them alone. Ukitake swallowed thickly as Unohana averted her violet eyes. It was strange for the three eldest Captains. It seemed as though they existed in two different ways. There was the way that the world saw them, the roles they had come to define. And then there was the way they were when they were not pretending to be strong, when they were just who they truly were. When he was not Captain Ukitake who may be sick but no-one dared challenge regardless, when she was the untouchable Captain Unohana whose eyes only showed kindness and whose voice never rose. At the moment Ukitake had a feeling that Unohana's voice was going to rise, also that he was possibly going to be eaten by Minazuki and not for any healing purpose.

"I have been wondering," Unohana said, her voice deceptively light, "what you were thinking, sending everyone away."

"That I didn't want them to get hurt?" Ukitake tried.

"That you did not want them to get hurt," Unohana repeated, her voice light before her eyes suddenly burned into him as he found the distance between them closed, "so what? So you could _die_?"

"I just didn't want anyone to get hurt. Whether I died or not was seconda--"

"It is _not_ secondary," Unohana seethed, "do you have any idea what it would be like for Shunsui to loose his best friend? For Soul Society to loose the potential next Commander General?" she turned away, "for me to loose you?"

Ukitake hung his head, taking a breath to make sure that he was not going to start coughing up blood. He walked forward and gently put a hand on Unohana's shoulder. She stiffened but didn't shrug him off.

Ukitake and Unohana had been academy sweethearts, of a sort. He had been popular despite his illness and Unohana had been the quiet, studious girl who sat in the back of the class to avoid attention. Of course she happened to be exceptionally beautiful even then and Shinji, being Shinji, had immediately taken a liking to her. To everyone's supreme shock she shot him down, the first girl to ever do it. That had stunned Shinji--a very hard thing to do--and he had just kept hanging out with her. Eventually she met Shunsui and Ukitake and the four of them had become good friends. It hadn't taken a lot for Ukitake to fall for the quiet girl who could stop men with a glare.

It had taken her a bit longer. His reputation preceded him and she had been less than enthused at the idea of the popular kid in class taking interest in her. He had a feeling she thought that he was teasing her. Eventually she had warmed up to the idea and started to spend more time outside of class with him. It helped that he was better at swordplay and she was excellent at Kido but neither was spectacular at the other. It gave them their first excuses to meet outside of class. Eventually they stopped needing excuses and just met up because they wanted too.

Shinji and Shunsui continued to date anything with a pair of breasts but his reputation as a playboy dwindled until no-one could really remember that he had been as bad as the two of them once upon a time. Well, Yamamoto probably remembered but thankfully the old man kept from shoving it in his (or Unohana's) face. The fact that they were _together_ had never truly been something they talked about, it was just kind of known. To the rest of Soul Society they were untouchable so it saved them the embarrassment of being pursued by anyone else.

"I had to try and help, Retsu," he said, her rarely used first name slipping from his lips.

"How, exactly, would sacrificing yourself help?" Unohana demanded.

"I don't want anyone dying on account of me," he said.

"Jushiro," Unohana sighed and turned around to face him, her eyes hesitantly rising to meet his. They were not the serene calm that she projected to the world, they were full of emotion. Ukitake felt his heart ache for her, "I'm scared," Unohana whispered, her voice barely audible even in the silence of the room.

"I know," Ukitake said drawing her against his chest, "I am too," he admitted softly, "but we'll get through this."

"So long as Shunsui doesn't become the new Commander General," Unohana muttered, "we'd be having sake parities instead of tea parties."

"That's very true," Ukitake said with a laugh, thankful he wasn't coughing, "lets just hope the King is coming soon," he sighed, "I don't think we can hold on for much longer."

**Break**

He was not nervous.

Byakuya frowned at the feeling and told himself that he was simply going to have to speak to the person who prepared his meals because it was impossible that the feeling in his stomach was nerves. In his hands he held the documents that Yachiru had given him, the ones he was supposed to deliver to the Ninth and he kind of felt like the butt of a joke. Still he had given his word and Byakuya was nothing if not honorable so he made his way to the Ninth Division with his escort of guards.

Halibel was sitting back in her chair, her eyes focused on the window and not the documents in front of her. When he came in she turned her gaze to him and stood up.

"Captain Kuchiki," she greeted, "how are you?"

"I am well, how are your eyes?"

"Sore," she said with a regretful smile, "and I fear my Vice Captain and Third Seat have gone off on their first date."

"I see," he said, "it would seem that both our Divisions suffer the same predicament."

"Ah, so Nel has finally decided that quiet make outs in deserted corners are not the way to go?"

"I doubt that," Byakuya said dryly, "I believe they simply have decided to argue in addition to that, if the spike of noise level in my division is any indication," Halibel laughed.

"Well you have my sincerest apologies, Captain Kuchiki," she said, "I assume Yachiru has sent you over with paperwork," he nodded and extended it. Halibel accepted the papers and looked through them, "I've been meaning to thank you."

"The paperwork was no trouble."

"No," Halibel said looking up at him, "it seems every time I get injured you happen to carry me to Unohana, I wanted to thank you."

"You've done Soul Society a great service," Byakuya replied, "It was also no trouble."

"Well all the same, you have my gratitude," she said. Halibel's eyes narrowed, "though it seems we are the subject of intrigue in Soul Society now."

Byakuya felt the odd Spiritual Pressure outside of the window. His eyes narrowed, it did not feel like any he had seen before. His hand went to the hilt of Senbonzakura. Halibel's eyes flicked to the action, her mind instantly realizing what he planned to do. She shook her head quickly, knowing that if there was one thing she did not want to happen it was to be sliced up by Senbonzakura.

"Well these all seem to be in order," she said, her voice smooth as she placed them on her desk, "thank you."

"It is not a problem," he said, his mind following the odd presence as it seemed to go past the window and continue on its way, "he's on the move," he said to Halibel.

"Not for long," she said, activating her Shunkou and taking off out the window.

"You three, go ahead to the Third Division," Byakuya ordered, "the rest of you, go to my sister."

"But Lord Kuchiki--" they began. Byakuya sent them an icy glare.

"If you would like to try and keep up you are welcome too. Otherwise go. One of you go to the Second and tell Captain Soifon that we are under attack."

Knowing that keeping up with Byakuya Kuchiki was impossible for all but a select few the guards had no choice but to bow and obey him. It was not hard to find the two Spiritual Pressures; they seemed to be heading for the graveyard where Matsumoto's memorial was. That could mean only one thing. He did not want to fight Gin outright, so he was going through a back route--hurting Gin's Vice Captain. Byakuya felt his fists clench in anger. That behavior was nothing short of disgraceful. They truly were dealing with someone who followed Aizen Sousuke's ways. He shot forward using Shunpo.

He made it to the graveyard with speed that impressed even him. Kira was lying in a heap on the ground, blood seeping through his blond hair. A figure in a black cloak was standing on one side of his body. On the other, her Shunkou flickering, was Halibel.

"Assistance?" he asked.

"No," Halibel snapped, "stay back," she ordered Byakuya, "this is between us."

"You'd think getting your ass kicked twice would have taught you to allow others to help you _before_ you go unconscious," Wonderwice said.

"You clearly forget how resilient I am," she returned, "and how easily annoyed," she looked at him, "Wonderwice."

"Ha! I should have known Mr. Observant would figure it out eventually," he reached up, "allow me to _enlighten_ you."

When he pulled back his hood even Halibel had to hesitate. It certainly looked like Wonderwice. Except, except his hair was slicked back, his violet eyes were darker as well, frightening intelligence reflected in their depths. Halibel inhaled sharply, her fists clenching as her Shunkou increased in response to the anger in her.

"See, Lord Aizen knew that he would not survive the war--"

"Bullshit," Halibel spat.

"Oh very well," he said with a grin, "but I knew there was a chance and he did know that." he said, "he knew what I was capable of, that all I need was the ability to think and the plans of what he wanted and I would take care of the rest," Wonderwice grinned, "it took a while, I nearly went mad down there waiting for the Earth based Zanpakuto to hurry up and show itself. Lord Aizen had already gotten Yoruichi's blade that'd provide the base for the others," Wonderwice grinned, "and now it is _I_ who will have the supreme honor of carrying out Aizen's wishes."

"The only 'honor' you'll have is being another victim to my Shunkou," she hissed.

"That's rich!" he laughed, "you're a traitor to your kind, pretending to be a Shinigami but you're a Hollow like the rest of us!" Halibel glared but dared not move, knowing that any movement she made would be full of anger instead of precision, "don't tell me you haven't been having the dreams," he smirked, "tell me, Halibel, how do _you_ die?"

"I am not going to listen to this nonsense!" she streaked forward, her hand lashing out and catching him across his upper arm with her fingertips before she landed on the other side of the grass.

"I bet it was violent," Wonderwice continued, "Aizen only chose those with a lot of _ange--" _he dove under her next attack but her foot skimmed across the length of his cloak, dropping a good deal of the material and leaving a narrow, bleeding gash across his stomach, "you bitch," he spat.

"Pretty words are no match for raw power," she said, "You should have brought that sword with you."

"Who says I need that sword?" he grinned raising his hands and flinging them out, "I bet you remember this one!"

Byakuya's reaction was instant as Senbonzakura shielded Halibel, Kira and him from the attack. Halibel looked at the blades and then at Byakuya, her eyes widening.

"Run," she whispered, "he's going to take control of your Zanpakuto and use it against you," she looked around as the blades began to tremble, "run!!"

"I do not run from fights," Byakuya hissed, "especially not ones that concern my own Zanpakuto."

"Then you are a fool!" Halibel cried.

"It has been suggested by a few," he said, with the barest of smiles as he brought his hands up, "Chire, Senbonzakura."

The blades that would have pinned them dissolved into countless small blades. Countless blades that when used correctly could kill a hundred things in an instant. Countless blades that when used with no prior experience simply drifted to the ground in a metallic heap. Byakuya looked at them and then up at Wonderwice who tightened the grip of his Zanpakuto and glared at the Kuchiki Clan Head.

"You seem to have discovered the very thing that taught me humility," he said, "I assume your _resurreccion_ is taking over another's Zanpakuto, regardless of your own skill," he looked at the heap of blades, "an admirable ability, under normal circumstances," his eyes rose to Wonderwice's, "however Senbonzakura is not a blade based on raw power. Her power is in the abilities of her user. If she is displeased," he motioned to the blades, "well I believe that is self-explanatory."

"Women are very fickle creatures," Wonderwice said with a shrug.

"And you should remember," Byakuya continued as though he had not spoken, "that we have defeated your predecessors, we will defeat you too."

Wonderwice roared and started forward, a cero streaking in his fingertips.

The explosion sent dust roaring up all around them. Halibel coughed, feeling his Spiritual Pressure disappearing. Dust was too thick to see anything but Halibel could smell smoke. It seemed some of the surrounding trees had caught on fire. Halibel's eyes widened in shock. She had protected the unconscious Kira but what about--

"Captain Kuchiki!" she screamed looking around. She couldn't see anything in the dust and her emotions were far too much in turmoil to think about sensing his Spiritual Pressure, "Captain Kuchiki!" in the dust her foot hit something soft, something almost alive, "Byakuya!"

He seemed to be unconscious but not dead. She felt his chest and realized he had probably been thrown against the trees in the resulting explosion. Unable to see anything she hooked her arms under his and dragged him out of the dust cloud to a dry area. Running back in, she grabbed Kira and dragged him as well. By that time the fire had drawn a few of the Shinigami.

"Captain Halibel--Captain Kuchiki! Vice Captain Kira! What happened?!"

"See to the others," Halibel ordered, "I'm fine."

"But--"

"That was an order!" she barked out, "see to them!"

She staggered off. She knew she had been caught in the debris from the cero but she couldn't bear the thought of going to the Fourth again. Just as she could not bear the thought of another seeing the tears that were threatening her eyes. She knew, on some level, that the others would be having the same torturous dreams she had been. Dreams of how they died, of the lives that they simply could not let go of. She was no different, she could only pray that they never found out how she had died. The music box playing in the distance, some monster still on top of her, still panting with feral delight at the screams he wrenched from her throat, the very throat another man slashed as he pressed his mouth to hers while a third held her down.

And that horrible voice.

_Now my dear, you die with a kiss_

**AN**

**Sorry, just a little one more. If anyone wants to hear the song that the music box is playing going to youtube and type in Lilium Music Box version. **

**AN**


	16. The Devil

**AN**

**And we're back!! And moving forward! I feel like the last few chapters have been kind of massive suspenseful set up. Thank you all for sticking with me. Now we're moving forward! I hope everyone had a great halloween! (Oh can we just talk about how the new completely sucks? I hate tabs and graphs and now the old stats page is completely bugged and doesn't show things. Its such a pain in the you-know-what).**

VioTanequil **is my favorite beta reader!**

**AN**

The ceiling of the Fourth Division wavered for a moment before it came fully into focus for Byakuya. He frowned slightly, wondering how he had gotten there when the memory of the fight came back to him.

_How did you die?_

It was easy to forget, given all they had done, that the Espada had once been their enemies. At their hearts what separated the Espada from the Shinigami was their attachment to the Living World. Though they had been fully turned into Shinigami, their souls still clung to their unresolved deaths. Everyone, himself included, liked to simply say that it was a good thing they transformed the Espada into Shinigami. It was easy to forget that it _did_ matter that their Souls had not been at peace at the time of their death.

Especially with the King coming.

"Brother."

Byakuya pushed himself up to see Rukia standing in the doorway, relief on every inch of her. He frowned, concerned. Rukia had been acting strange since a bit before Ichigo left. If anything her current behavior was worse. It was as if she was unaffected by her husband's actions, something Byakuya knew to be _not_ true. He expected her to go after her husband, every morning when she was still at the Manor his concern grew. Rukia quickly closed the door in the guard's faces and hurried forward, stopping just short of his bedside.

"Rukia," he looked at her, "what's wrong?"

"You're in the hospital bed," she mumbled, her eyes wet.

"Rukia," he looked at her, a warning look in his eyes, "I am your brother, I know when you're hiding something."

It was true. Only a select few remembered the days when Byakuya and Rukia had walked side by side never touching, never speaking. Someone had told the story of Rukia's almost-execution and the tales of Byakuya's initial lack of reaction had been met with sheer disbelief. Ichigo and Rukia lived in the Kuchiki Manor, albeit in a different part than Byakuya, and the siblings truly were close. To the point where the general consensus was that Ichigo had far more reason to fear his overprotective brother-in-law who would undoubtedly put him in a body cast before his wife even got near him. Byakuya's eyes picked out how Rukia's hands were wrapped around her waist as though she was protecting something.

Or someone.

Byakuya's eyes widened as Rukia lifted hers and offered her brother a weak, tear-filled smile.

"You're going to be an uncle," she whispered before her sobs started in earnest.

Heedless of his own condition Byakuya stood up and wrapped his arms around his sister. Rukia continued to sob but instead of her arms being wrapped around her unborn child she wrapped them around her big brother. Byakuya mentally vowed that Ichigo Kurosaki was going to be in a world of pain before his toes even touched Soul Society. That explained everything, why Rukia had been acting so strong, why she hadn't gone after Ichigo. She knew that she couldn't risk the baby. Byakuya felt proud of his sister, she was already acting like a mother. Though frankly she already did that to the men in her life. The kid couldn't be half as much trouble as, say, Renji Abarai.

"I'm sorry," Rukia said when her sobs had quieted, "I didn't mean to break down on you like that--" she tucked her chin downwards, "I'm just scared."

"I suppose I should not try to convince you that letting me kill Ichigo is a good idea," Byakuya replied.

"Unfortunately no," Rukia frowned, "I didn't _know_. I mean I thought but I didn't know and I--" she stumbled over the words before they slowed to a halt, "I'm going to be a terrible mother."

"No, no you're not," Byakuya said firmly, "you already take care of all of us," he smiled faintly, "I'm sure one more won't be too much trouble."

"You're going to spoil my child rotten aren't you?" Rukia accused, a smile on her lips.

"Well, I am the uncle," Byakuya said dryly.

Shortly afterwards Byakuya sent Rukia (with most of his guards) home to rest and set off back to the office to finish his paperwork. The office was deserted when Byakuya walked into it. Renji's desk was empty but on his own was a pile of documents, completed in a bold, unfamiliar handwriting. On top of the documents was a note in the same odd handwriting. Byakuya frowned and picked up the note on top of the documents.

_Captain Kuchiki,_

_I assisted your Vice Captain in the completion of the documents. You have my sincerest apologies for your involvement in the attack yesterday and my heartfelt thanks for your assistance prior to my going unconscious._

_Though I must say out of the two of us you are much better at carrying the other than I._

_Halibel._

Byakuya stared at the note. To anyone passing by it simply looked as though he was reading a note. No-one would notice the surprise in his eyes, the way his fingers gripped the paper a bit harder than normal. Byakuya could practically hear Halibel's words as though the woman herself was speaking them instead of them being written. It was not as though he could deny she was attractive, he doubted there was a man in Soul Society who hadn't had an indecent thought about the Ninth Division Captain, especially not those like him, who had seen her on that battlefield in that, well, clothing might have been the wrong word for what _that_ was.

It had been over a century since Byakuya Kuchiki held his wife's hand as she left him to go to the next life. Though his household had decided that the Kuchiki line would _not_ end with him, he had no interest in continuing his line with one of the woman that seemed to be paraded in front of him constantly. He had, in his own way, loved Hisana as best he could but it was the respect he felt for her that was more the basis of their relationship. She was so strong, so kind--everything he never thought he would find in, well, in anyone let alone a commoner. Her common status had affected him in the beginning but then it simply ceased to matter. She was _Hisana_, simple as that.

And he had let her die.

It had been a disease, he knew that, but he always felt as though he had failed her, long before he stood aside as Soul Society decided his sister's fate. He shouldn't have let her go to search for Rukia, he had the guards. He should have kept her home, especially when her health began to suffer. But she had been just as stubborn as Rukia, he knew she would find a way out of any kind of imprisonment he put on her. Since her death any woman he was forced to meet, he compared to her. It was like she was a shadow hanging over them. None could hold a candle to his wife's memory.

Except Halibel who, it seemed, couldn't be compared to her at all.

"Uncle Byakuya?"

Byakuya glanced from the note to the doorway to see Kohaku standing there looking guilty as sin. Byakuya laid the note down and looked at his would-be nephew. Byakuya had a feeling that Kohaku's guilt had a lot to with him going and attacking Wonderwice despite Byakuya's caution not too. Even if Kohaku had not been at the receiving end of Byakuya's anger before, he knew it was not a place he wanted to be. So the young man was doing the one thing he never liked: apologizing.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen," Kohaku mumbled shifting his weight, "and that I attacked Wonderwice when you told me not too."

"How do you--" Byakuya began but decided he didn't want to know where Kohaku had picked that up, "I believe your resulting Spiritual Pressure exhaustion was a far better teacher of the dangers of blinded revenge than I could ever be," he said mildly.

"Yeah, I bet you're right," Kohaku said, cheering up slightly, "where's Renji?"

"No where I care to know," Byakuya said, "what are you doing here?"

"I came to visit my favorite uncle," he said, "besides I wanted to get away from the 10th Division. I lent my phone to Captain Hitsugaya so he could call Matsumoto and I think he's going to blow something up."

Back at the tenth Division, Hitsugaya looked at the phone on the desk as though the thing was going to explode any second. Kohaku had gone to give him privacy, but he knew he couldn't do this alone. So he was waiting, terrified that thing was going to ring and he was going to have to, to speak to _her_.

"Toshiro!" Hinamori practically flew into the room, "I just heard, have you--" she looked at the phone.

"I couldn't," he said following her gaze before locking her violet brown eyes with his own, "what do I _say_ to her?"

"It's Matsumoto, just say hi," Hinamori advised coming over to the desk and standing so that the outer edges of their thighs touched.

Hitsugaya took a shaky breath and nodded. It was Matsumoto. Matsumoto he hadn't seen since he was a much shorter, much younger boy genius. Matsumoto whose death had brought him and Hinamori together and almost resulted in him flooding Soul Society. Matsumoto who had helped him become a Soul Reaper, who never judged or complained about being Vice Captain to someone half her age, who never did any paperwork but always managed to get both of them out of trouble.

He shouldn't be so afraid to call her.

But he was.

Hinamori gave him an encouraging smile as he flicked open the phone and connected the call.

"Hello?"

"Matsumoto?" his voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper, his voice wrought with emotion.

"Captain! Your voice finally cracked!" Matsumoto cried joyously. He glared, suddenly feeling not like the respected Captain he was but like the child he had not been in some time.

"Matsumoto--"

"You actually sound kind of scary doing that now," she teased, "good thing I know you better than that."

"Matsumoto!!" he roared furiously, feeling his cheeks heat up as he wondered how the hell he suddenly felt four feet tall again. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hinamori's shoulders shake as she struggled to contain her laughter, "what are you laughing at?" he demanded glaring at his fiancé.

"N-nothing," Hinamori got out as she tried to contain her laughter and failed miserably.

"You two--" he began threateningly.

"Us two? Is that Hinamori?" Matsumoto gasped, "I heard you two were dating."

"We're engaged," Hitsugaya said, feeling the back of his neck heat up.

"You're what?!" Matsumoto shrieked, forcing him to hold the phone away from his ear, "you're _engaged_?! You're a big kid now?!"

"I am not a kid damn it!!" Hitsugaya shouted at the phone as Hinamori doubled over laughing, "both of you! Stop laughing--and I can't see him but I know Gin's laughing too! Tell him to stop!"

"You sound so mature," Matsumoto teased as Hitsugaya felt his blush spread from the back of his neck to his cheeks, "now don't get too upset or that ice of yours might melt."

"You just wait until you get back here," Hitsugaya threatened, "I am going to make you do paperwork for twenty years!"

"I thought you got a new Vice Captain," Matsumoto said, her voice taking on a slight seriousness to it.

"Yeah so?" Hitsugaya said, completely unperturbed, "who else are you going to work for when you get back here huh? I was your Captain first--you tell Gin that I get you back damn it!"

"I feel so loved," Matsumoto said with a dramatic sigh, "I thought you two got along now."

"It depends, if he's trying to steal my Vice Captain then no, we don't," Hitsugaya said hotly.

"So," Matsumoto said, "does the new Vice Captain do paperwork?"

Hitsugaya looked over at Nel's desk, full of papers and ink and everything but the woman herself.

"No."

Gin watched Matsumoto and Hitsugaya argue with a faint, nostalgic smile on his lips. He almost had to pinch himself to remember that this was not one of the many dreams he had had of her. It was surreal and wonderful and easy to forget that they still were technically at war.

Easy until he realized Oscar was not in the room.

Frowning Gin looked around, trying to find where the boy could have gone. He glanced at Matsumoto before he walked towards the front of the room. She continued her conversation as he stepped through the threshold of the door. On the other side Souken and Ryuuken were sitting. They fixed Gin with their father's piercing stare and slight frown. Gin's eyes narrowed as he looked up ahead. He could sense _something_ but it was faint. He was weak compared to what he normally was and he had a feeling that if it came down to a fight, it would not end well.

"What is it?" Ryuuken asked standing up.

"Have you seen Oscar?" he asked. They shook their heads, "damn," he swore.

The instant the curse left his lips there was a blast of wind and the familiar echo of Sonido before the table the two were at shattered. Wood tore through their shirts, leaving their backs exposed. On each of their spines, between the shoulder blades was a Quincy Cross tattoo. In response to the attack the crosses glowed a bright blue and energy raced down their arms, forming the bows for which they were so infamous. Even with his abilities blocked Gin could tell these were not bows like the Quincy's he usually dealt with.

Standing in the door between the two of them and him was Wonderwice.

"Friend of yours?" Souken asked.

"Hardly," Gin said looking at the Espada, "where is Oscar and Masaki?"

"Oh they're just fine," Wonderwice said with a grin, "a bit sandy but fine none the less," he paused, "aren't you going to ask me why I'm doing this? Or give some dramatic speech about how you've changed and I should see the light?"

"I think I'll just kill you," Gin snapped.

"Well that might be fun," Wonderwice said, "how about I kill her first?"

Instantly his Zanpakuto was in his hand as Matsumoto prepared to release Haineko.

"Don't release your Zanpakuto!" Gin shouted. Matsumoto gave a nod that she heard him. Before he was really aware of what he was doing, Gin had the sealed Shinso out and was swinging it at Wonderwice's head. That forced his Zanpakuto off of Matsumoto as he blocked Gin's blade, "you're fighting me."

"Admirable," Wonderwice said as he parried Gin's blade with his own, "but pointless. As I remember you couldn't even beat Aizen, he split you open like a rotten fruit. What makes you think you can beat _me_ at half your power?" his eyes seemed to almost glow, "you betrayed Aizen! I am the only one worthy! You are a traitor!"

"See that's where you're wrong, Wonderwice," Gin said, "Aizen betrayed me first."

"How dare you question Aizen!" Wonderwice spat, "soon I will be God and you will kneel at my feet!"

"I doubt that," Gin said coolly.

Half power or no, Gin was an excellent swordsman. Without his shikai there was nothing for Wonderwice to use against him. It was simply a battle of skill.

It was Gin's own fault for forgetting Wonderwice knew his weakness.

He barely managed to send up a Kido to block the cero.

For a moment all was silent. He could hear Matsumoto's breaths in the background and see Ryuuken and Souken's unconscious bodies through the haze of his Kido. Wonderwice smirked but said nothing as he vanished. Gin waved the Kido away and ran to Ryuuken while Matsumoto ran to Souken. Both were unconscious but alive. Gin sighed and stood up.

"You idiot!" Matsumoto's stalked over to him, "why did you let him get away?! Why didn't you follow him?! He has Oscar! He has the last Elemental Zanpakuto! You should have stopped him instead of protecting m--"

Matsumoto suddenly found herself pinned to the wall, Gin towering over her. His ruby eyes bored into her as his hands braced his body on either side of her shoulders, the cold metal of Shinso barely visible out of the corner of her eye. Matsumoto swallowed as she looked at him, very aware of the anger that seemed to be rolling off of him.

"Don't tell me I shouldn't have protected you," he said, his voice a rough rasp, "do _not_ tell me that."

"You shouldn't have," she said stubbornly.

"Damn it Ran! You can't ask me to watch you die again!" he burst out. Matsumoto averted her eyes, "I can't," he whispered, his voice suddenly wrought with emotion as his nails dug into the wall, "I can't watch that again."

Matsumoto closed her eyes, aware of the pain that was in his voice and eyes. Gin really had changed, her _death_ had changed him. Matsumoto didn't know if she should be honored or sad or a bit of both. It hadn't even been a conscious choice when she approached him on the battlefield. The idea of _not_ approaching him, that was ridiculous. She had watched him go down the wrong path for so long that the idea of letting him die on it was just, it wasn't something she could or would accept. She had to make him see the truth no matter the cost.

Apparently that cost had been very, very high.

Matsumoto raised her eyes slowly as she lifted her hands, gently running them up the skin of his cheeks. Gin closed his eyes, his head bowing as his body shook. Matsumoto moved her hands past his cheeks up to his shoulders, wrapping them around him in an embrace. Gin's head dropped onto the skin of her shoulder. Matsumoto simply held him as he shook, as tears began to slip from his eyes, as her oldest friend and the man she had always loved broke down against her.

They had to fix this.

They just had too.


	17. The Tower

**AN**

**Okay first and foremost I want to let you all know that there's fan art for "Silent Force" now!! Dwellin has drawn amazing pictures. They're under favorites on my deviant page which is my homepage. Or you can go to deviantart or . Dwellin is under the same name at both. They're beautiful pictures from a talented artist and I am overjoyed that someone liked my story enough to draw something for it considering the only thing I can paint is my nails.**

**Okay so the next chapter is currently in production but its probably going to be a bit before it comes out since its not yet written. I'm hoping to have it done tonight while I stay up and watch the election. After its beta-ed it'll be up. **

**EVERYONE 18 AND OVER I HOPE YOU VOTED!!! **

**Seriously. If you voted you get a cookie! I don't care who you voted for, just that you voted. **

**AN**

"He's got the last Zanpakuto," Urahara said breathlessly, "he's able to complete it now."

For a moment everyone was silent. Captains, Seated Officers, no-one dared to move or breath as Urahara's words sunk in.

Until Grimmjow did.

"I told you before!" Grimmjow snarled getting to his feet, "I am _not_ dying because of fucking Wonderwice!" Ulquiorra opened his mouth, "Don't contradict me because I swear to fucking God I will find a way to _negacion_ your ass." Ulquiorra closed his mouth, "how do we get rid of this stupid sword?"

No one said anything.

"You don't know how to get rid of it?" Grimmjow demanded hotly.

"We didn't even know it existed," Nanao argued, "I just recognized it from a legend I read."

"Well then is there a legend about how to un-do it?" he demanded, "not that I don't have the utmost faith in Ichigo Kurosaki's ability to magically appear and be a hero," he added with an eye roll.

"He's right," Byakuya said coolly, "we need to have another plan."

No-one commented that it was probably because the second Ichigo put a foot on the soil of Soul Society the only thing he was going to be seeing was Senbonzakura coming to beat his ass. Word of Rukia's pregnancy had spread through Soul Society. It was unsaid, but everyone knew the easiest way to get to Ichigo was through Rukia and if she was not going to do anything to endanger their unborn child then precautions were going to have to be made. Nobody thought Byakuya would leave his niece or nephew without a father, but there was a good chance that Ichigo was going to be a lot of pain and potentially be unconscious for a few months.

"Well no-one's better at searching through books than my Nanao," Shunsui grinned.

"I'll see what I can find," Nanao agreed.

"What can I do?"

All eyes went to see Yoruichi standing in the doorway. The Head of the Shihouin Clan had been off to protect her family and those close to her. Now that they knew who they were fighting, now that there was no more damage to be done she had returned to Soul Society. Urahara knew she was coming of course but he was still relieved to see her tangibly back.

"Mom!"

Not as relieved as some people.

Ignoring the heaps of trouble he was going to get in for once again hiding out in the meetings as a cat, Kohaku transformed mid-air as he leapt off the shelf he had been hiding on top of and threw himself at his mother. Yoruichi caught her son tightly in an embrace, not even bothering to pretend to be upset with the stunt he pulled.

Much like Kisuke, Yoruichi had approached parenthood strangely. Unlike him, she had initially been torn between being terrified and furious. Kisuke got to keep his normal life, Kisuke wasn't put off active duty or forced to buy new cloths or watch his body change with absolutely no permission. Of course he stayed through ever hormonally charged episode she had, through every craving and bout of sickness he had been beside her. Children were rare in Soul Society, especially given both their lifestyles they were exceedingly rare. Truthfully, Yoruichi hadn't expected it to work out. She hadn't felt like a mother really until one day she had been arguing with someone, probably Kisuke, and the baby had kicked. Yoruichi had never been kicked from the inside before. But the baby had kicked and it had kicked when she had been yelling at him. For some reason in that moment Yoruichi felt very protective.

Those moments kept happening and by the time she went into labor with the baby she was far more excited than scared. It was a hard labor but she was a strong woman. Despite Unohana's suggestion that he wait outside and her death threats, Kisuke didn't leave her side once through the ordeal. And then, after all that had happened, after hours of pain and tears, Unohana had gently placed a screaming bundle in her arms. Holding her son in her arms was the single strangest moment in Yoruichi's life. Stranger than when she had finally married Kisuke--stranger than when she chosen him over Soul Society, stranger than anything. But then Kohaku had blinked open the amber eyes she saw staring back at her in the mirror every day and suddenly Yoruichi had felt the weight she didn't know she had been carrying vanish.

After acting like mentors for so long, she and Urahara were _finally_ parents.

It didn't matter that the Shihouin Clan was overjoyed, Yoruichi had stopped caring about them a very long time ago. No, what mattered was that her son was in her arms and her husband was next to her beaming down at the two of them.

They had named him Kohaku after the different shades of amber that seemed to make up his eyes, skin and hair.

Of course he was their son in every way possible, including charming Byakuya Kuchiki like Yoruichi had done a very long time ago. Yoruichi was glad he was strong, she had seen the sadness in her father's eyes when he was unable to take his place as a Captain because he was not strong enough. She was glad her son would not have to suffer that. If anything he was shaping up to be stronger than both his parents.

"You've gotten stronger haven't you?" Yoruichi murmured tightening her grip on his shoulders.

Byakuya felt his lips curl up into a faint smile. But he was still going to murder Ichigo.

Later, back at his quarters, Ulquiorra breathed a sigh of frustration as he ran his hands through his ebony hair. His fingers brushed against the scar hidden by his hair, his fingers pausing against the skin. The mark remained, even if his helmet was gone. Even if his tear marks and four tattoo were faint things, the scar was still there. He dropped his hands to his face as he struggled against the tidal wave of emotions running through him.

On the other side of the bathroom door, Orihime pressed her hand to the smooth wood. She could hear the water in the sink running but didn't know what to think except that Ulquiorra was withdrawing from her. He was pushing her away to fight the battle alone. Orihime was both saddened and infuriated at the gesture. He should have learned a very long time ago that she was not just going to sit back and let him fight alone. Besides, it was kind of his fault anyway. Squaring her shoulders Orihime rapped on the door twice. When she got no response she turned the knob and entered.

Sure enough he was hunched over the sink, his face buried in his hands. The water from the sink was swirling down the drain, though she doubted that Ulquiorra noticed. He was still in his uniform from the meeting, his armband was lying on the rim of the sink. He didn't seem to notice that or the sink still running or even her presence in the room. Orihime didn't care. She wasn't going to let him go through this alone, she wasn't going to just let him slip away. Boldly she walked up to him and leaned over, turning off the sink. He seemed to realize he was not alone but he made no move to look at her. Gently she reached out and covered his hands with her own, guiding them down off his face.

It was like that second time he had seen her when he had been sent to find her. He had seen her before that, of course, but only out of the corner of his eye when he had been focused on killing her friends, not on her. That time, between worlds, that was the first time he had really seen her, framed by the bright golden glow of the _Shun Shun Rikka_, staring him down despite the fact that she had no chance at victory. The determination to help, even if she personally could not be the victor was so bright in her eyes. He had found it annoying, if not a bit admirable.

Who would have guessed that one day he would come to love those eyes, to love the determination and the spirit of the woman which they reflected.

"What do you want?" he asked looking at her dully.

"I want to make sure you're okay," she said.

"I'm fine," he said stepping away, determined not to have her suffer more, determined to fight this battle alone.

Orihime watched him walk towards the door purposefully, her heart aching fiercely. It had taken so _much_ for them to be together. It had been very hard the first time, so hard she had forgotten what that was like, not admitting she loved him. She knew it was harder still on him, at least she knew what a heart was. He had no idea and while he was figuring it out she was lying in a coma in the Fourth Division for six months. And now he was going to walk away, he was going to fight alone and leave her behind. This was no battle for the fairies, nothing to be won with the blade he wielded so well.

That didn't mean she couldn't fight.

"It was a cero," she said. His foot hesitated, "I never saw the Arrancar that did it. I was using the _Shun Shun Rikka_ to defend my front but I--I didn't have time to protect my back," she bit her lip, "one minuet I was fine, the next everything hurt and then, then the world just disappeared. Kind of like a wave going off the beach out to sea."

Slowly Ulquiorra turned to see her standing there looking at him, determination still bright in her eyes.

He had forgotten that she remembered her death as well. Orihime continued to meet his gaze steadily.

"I used to wish that I could have five different lives so I could do all the things I wanted too--that's what I told Ichigo the night I came to you that first time," she paused, considering her words, "But I'm so happy that I only have one, that I get to remember everyone--that I get to remember you and all we've been through," she gave the barest of smiles before her voice turned serious again, "I don't dream about it often," she continued, "but when I do sleeping next to you always makes me feel better," she her hands buried in the folds of her hakama but even he could see her grip on the fabric.

"Orihime," he began and then hesitated.

What was she supposed to say? How was he supposed to possibly put into words how much she helped him? Before he knew what he was doing he had walked back to where she stood and pulled her body against his in an almost desperate embrace as he murmured her name again.

Even after fifty years of being together Orihime found that hearing Ulquiorra say her name never lost its ability to send shivers racing down her spine. Her own arms came up to wrap around his shoulders pulling him closer to her frame. She felt tremors race up Ulquiorra's spine but he gave no other sign of the struggle raging inside him. He had always been so good at hiding his emotions, just as she had always been almost painfully open with hers. Yin and Yang, they balanced each other out as perfectly as they always had.

"He's not like you," she whispered into his shirt, "you changed. You're different. You all are different now."

She wasn't trying to mask the truth like everyone else seemed to be, She accepted that there had been a time when he had shared some similarities with Wonderwice. She acknowledged it, she accepted it, she accepted _him_. He had accepted her as well, both her strength and her weakness. Perhaps that was what made them work so well. They had come so impossibly far from the green eyed Espada who had stolen her like Hades stole Persephone. It had been such a struggle and yet, somehow, in his arms Orihime found that she would do everything all over again. What they had gained in the Winter War seemed to outweigh what they had lost, especially now that Matsumoto was alive again.

"I know," he muttered against her hair, "I know but--"

"No buts," she said firmly, "or I'll let Ayame drug your tea to help you sleep," she threatened, though the smile did not slip off her lips.

**Break**

When Hiyori couldn't stand to watch Kensei and Ichigo fight anymore, she wandered onto the balcony of Shinji's loft. She knew he'd have been living in a nice place all these years, even if part of her hoped he was rotting in a hole somewhere. Uryuu was smart in picking the four of them to train Ichigo. if he stood a chance against the 'new' Aizen than he was going to need to get his ass kicked a fair amount and they were clearly the best to do it. She knew Kensei would be the first to fight him. Hand to hand combat was the basics and no-one got more basic than Kensei. Mashiro would probably go next with Kido. Then it would be up to her and Shinji to deal with agility and swordsmanship.

Her and Shinji.

Unwillingly Hiyori felt her fists clench as she shoved the thoughts down. It had been a very long time since she allowed herself to think of Shinji, why should the fact she was standing in his bachelor pad make any difference? People left. It was a fact that had been beaten into her. Her parents left, Kirio left, Shinji left, they all left. The world was a messed up place and after many years of pain Hiyori had decided that the best way to deal with the world was to hurt it before it got a chance to take anything more from her. When she had agreed to come here she had agreed with the promise that this would be another mission. In and out and--

"I thought I'd find you here."

Hiyori turned to see Shinji sitting on the ledge that ran around the narrow balcony, one leg swinging easily towards the oblivion below. A bottle of some sort of nondescript liquid was sitting near his knee. From what she could see it was half empty and the seal was lying nearby.

"Is now the best time to be getting drunk?" she demanded crossing her arms.

"As good a time as any," he said with a mockery of his trademark grin as he tipped the bottle back.

"Gimme that," she snatched it from his hand and took a long swallow.

The liquor stung her throat as it slid down but when she lowered it the world was a bit foggier and a bit easier to deal with. At the very least it made her not afraid to sit down across from him and swing her own legs over the edge of the balcony. She had traded her sandals for boots a long time ago. The black leather blended into the shadows as she watched the world below her from her perch. She tried desperately to ignore the fact that Shinji was sitting next to her but eve if it was a struggle she wasn't going to let him see that.

"Bored already with the fight?" he asked after a moment.

"You've seen Ichigo get his ass kicked once, you've seen it a thousand times," she shrugged as she took another long, painful swallow and felt the world ebb a bit more.

"Guess I can't count on you as an audience member when I do it then," he said.

"I grew tired of watching you fight half-ass years ago," she snapped easily in return.

"Maybe I'll go all out this time," he grinned, "just to surprise you."

"You lost your ability to surprise me when you left," she said, her voice still low but now it was bitter as well. For a moment they sat in silence letting her words hand in the air, "you look like crap by the way--" she paused, "more than usual I mean."

Shinji chuckled at that, a low bitter sound she hadn't heard him make since they were subject to Hollowification all those years ago. They all had been close to tears, even her admittedly. Shinji had dropped his head into his hands, his shoulders shook and all the while they were scared that he was crying. He was the strongest of them, somehow the thought of him crying was a scary one. After a moment they realized that he wasn't crying, he was laughing. It was a horrible sound, one that mocked the very core of what a laugh should be. But there he was, the Pharaoh mask that would become famous lying in his lap, laughing all the while.

Apparently Yamamoto's death was hitting him much harder than she thought. She felt the reverberations, they _all_ felt them. Her first thought had been towards Shinji before she shoved it aside. Damn it. she shouldn't have done that. She may have become accustom to being abandoned but she imagined that if she had a father, or a father-figure who she loved, the idea of them dying would be a painful one. Especially if they had parted on bad terms. She knew that Shinji, Shunsui, Ukitake and Unohana had all been like children to Yamamoto, especially the three boys and of those three especially Shinji. The two never spoke of their one-time bond. Shinji wouldn't mention him and Yamamoto, Yamamoto focused on Ukitake and Shunsui.

That had to hurt, a lot.

But it didn't mean she was going to just forgive him.

"I'm gonna have to get you a new hat," she muttered accepting the bottle he passed her, "your hair's still hell 'a ugly."

"Mm," he took the bottle, "then I'll just have to get you some ribbons. You look weird without the pigtails."

"Shut up," she snapped.

Silence washed over the former Vizards like a gentle tide. Hiyori doubted that people knew she and Shinji even knew how to be silent. The two of them were always loud, always crazy, it seemed rather unfathomable that the two of them even knew how to sit still. But they did. Or at least, they did for limited periods of time.

"I'm sorry about Yamamoto," Hiyori said finally.

"I'm not," Shinji snapped, his eyes darkening.

"Liar," Hiyori snapped in return. Shinji's eyes narrowed at the accusation but Hiyori didn't care, "It's been fifty years but I can still read you," she finished off the alcohol they had been passing back and forth.

"We don't have time for this," he returned standing up.

"Running away," Hiyori said sarcastically, "that's a new one for you."

Suddenly she found herself pinned against the brick of the wall, a very angry Shinji Hirako bearing down on her. Her eyes narrowed, she had beaten him a hundred times before, what the hell was he trying to do? But he made no move to fight her. He simply had her pinned against the wall, his eyes locking with hers. Hiyori opened her mouth, full prepared to release a load of insults on him but Shinji clearly had no intention of listening to them.

He made that very clear when he bent his head and sealed his lips over hers.

Hiyori's eyes widened as she prepared to beat him with in an inch of his life but her mind was wiped blissfully blank as he kissed her. It was as angry and confrontational as everything else they did but underneath that was a bitter sweetness that cut her to her core. It was like an addiction, it was like a drug and she couldn't think or breath or do anything but tangle her fingers in his slightly longer hair and tug him closer, cursing the fact that she was _still_ much shorter than him.

Shinji didn't care. Fifty years of fucking every damn blond in Boston in a failed attempt to forget the spitfire of a Vice Captain had finally caught up with him. It turned out the real thing couldn't compare to the knock offs he had been trying to satisfy himself with. His fingers dug deeply into the brick beside her as she wove her fingers through his hair. Unable to stand it he wrapped his arms around her tightly, fitting their bodies snugly together. For once she didn't try to kick his ass or beat him, she pulled him closer and tighter until it was impossible to tell where he ended and she began.

Until there was a _them_.

Hiyori believed in hurting the world before it hurt her.

She believed people left.

But with Shinji, in that moment, she let herself believe that they sometimes came back too.


	18. The Star

**And we're back!**

**And i've got to get to class!**

**And VioTanequil is a fantastic beta reader!**

**

* * *

**

Though he would not admit to another person, Byakuya Kuchiki was a bit concerned. Not simply about Rukia but also about Halibel. She was usually so quiet and there were so many people there that he didn't notice until after, but the former Espada was not at the meeting where Urahara told them that he had the final Zanpakuto. Seireitei had been kicked into so much overdrive as people scrambled to figure out what to do that it was hours before he realized that he had not seen her since the attack.

And after a few inquiries, it turned out no-one else had either.

Hisagi said that she had told him she had something to take care of. Being enigmatic was apparently not that unusual for her. Nel was--Nel was nowhere he wanted to know. He had a feeling her location was in the general proximity of his Vice Captain. Grimmjow and Ulquiorra were also both occupied. Finally it occurred to him where she could be and on a whim he set out for the memorial to the Winter War.

Sure enough she was there, her eyes focused on the large slab of stone on which were inscribed all the names of the deceased Shinigami. She seemed torn between anger and sadness but no tears slid down her cheeks. If anything it seemed her emotions leaned towards the former of the two if the tight line of her lips was any indication. Though it was cool outside she was wearing the uniform of the Special Forces, her back and shoulders completely exposed to the elements. Surprisingly aside from a bit of darker skin in between her shoulder blades, the rest of it was unscarred. Her hair was short enough so that he could see all of it as well.

Something deep inside the Head of the Kuchiki Family clenched tightly but he shoved it aside and stepped forward. Though he knew she saw him there she remained unmoving, her eyes staying focused on the kanji.

"You were absent from the meeting," he said coolly.

"I know he has the last of the Zanpakutos," she said.

"How?" he asked.

"The last Zanpakuto was unprotected," she said, "He knew Gin would have it and Gin would protect Matsumoto above anything else," she said, her voice taking on a harsher edge, "he's a fool."

Byakuya made no reply. On one hand he knew she was right. Gin was a fool to choose one woman over the rest of the world but he had done it before. Then again, Byakuya had thrown himself on a sword to protect someone he loved so he really was in no position to judge him.

"We should have sent someone else to protect Oscar," she said coldly.

"We could not have--"

"_You_ could not have," she cut him off, finally looking at him, "we should have," her eyes tore away from him, "its not the first time Gin's done something like this."

Disbelief surged through him at her words. It was so rare that she brought up the time as an Espada, especially in light of the current circumstances. He realized that from her point of view. Gin had already betrayed them. It was true that the main reason they had won the Winter War was Gin's very sudden and very effective betrayal. He had done it because Aizen had him stab Matsumoto. Now Gin had once again chosen the woman he loved over the rest of them. To a warrior it was befuddling. To a man, to him, it made a certain kind of sense.

Not to Halibel. She didn't understand how someone could do something so _stupid_. Now they were all in a world of trouble and it was all because Gin, once again, chose to follow something _other_ than his head. Whether it was his heart or something else, she didn't know and she certainly didn't care. Like most of them she had never understood Gin until after the Winter War. And now when she thought she understood him he had to go and pull something like this. Though she tried to see it objectively it was all tinged with a bitter familiarity that made it impossible for her not to feel, well, betrayed by the action.

"We all saw Gin's choice," he said, "we should have known," her eyebrow arched, "however you would like to say it, the fact is that we are on the same side now."

"We're different," she replied, her turquoise eyes narrowing slightly as though he had just challenged her.

"Yes, we all are different," he replied easily.

"That's not what I meant," she shot back, "we _are_ different on the outside," turning to face him, "and on the inside."

It was odd how a single sentence could change the mood instantly but it was suddenly as though the air had been charged with electricity. Both felt it acutely, both were warriors trained to read an opponent, to plan attacks and counter attacks. Unwillingly both felt their muscles tighten in anticipation. The only question was in anticipation of _what_? It had been many years since anyone was stupid enough to challenger either of them, physically or verbally. Hollows, Arrancar, all fell easily under their blades. In fact, nothing came to either of their minds when they thought about the last challenge they had that made their blood thrum as it was at the moment. The few fight with Wonderwice had been disgustingly short, there was no challenge in that. This, though, this was different. This was like a dance, like the ultimate double entendre. Not quite the truth and yet, somehow, more truthful than anything else.

"I can see that you are," he said, "but you are my fellow Captain."

"And how do I know you won't go and do the same thing?" she asked, her eyebrow arching, "How do I know you aren't going to betray us all as well?"

"I am _not_ Gin Ichimaru," he said.

"That's very true," she said. He realized she was closer than she had been moments ago, though he swore he did not see her move, "I suppose you'll say something silly about how we are similar."

"Actually the opposite," he said, "I'm a strong believer in the idea that what makes us different, brings us together."

"Your family is very diverse," she said after a moment's consideration.

"The ones I care about anyway," he said, thinking with an inward shudder of the Elders who all seemed to have been cut and aged from the same block. Much to his surprise Halibel's lips curved into a smile though the gesture still had a predatory feel to it, "and given our situation I don't think breaking bridges is the best idea."

"No," she agreed, her voice somehow seeming more like a rich murmur than before, rich and full of something that left the normally composed Kuchiki head fighting to keep himself that way, "I suppose not."

They were close enough together that he could see the faint, dark scars that outlined where her mask fragments had been. She could smell the faint scent of Sakura blossoms that seemed to cling to him. They should have been girly just as her scars should have been ugly but somehow neither was true. Because underneath the smell of blossoms there was something else, something that made Halibel want to step closer to him. And her scars outlined her lips, the thing that seemed to show her emotions better than anything else. The only question was, what did it mean when her lips were parted softly, looking like they were the only thing Byakuya ever wanted to taste.

What did it mean? Why were they suddenly much closer than they had been? Why was it suddenly harder to breathe than it ever had been before? Or to think, or to do anything except feel. Both were acutely aware of the air at their backs and the warmth at their fronts.

It was dizzying and exhilarating and so many things that neither had the ability to name.

"Lord Kuchiki."

And then his guards showed up.

Halibel took a breath and a step back. The night of surprises seemed to not be over for Byakuya. As soon as she stepped away the electric charge of the air seemed to vanish, leaving it even colder than it had been before. Something like disappointment filled through him, brining with it a terrible, aching emptiness. He had been in control of his emotions for so _long_. When that control was suddenly fractured it was somehow both wonderful and terrifying. He was torn between reaching and grabbing her or simply letting her shunpo away.

"I will see you at the next Captain's meeting," she said, "goodnight."

The latter occurred as Halibel vanished. Her head was spinning and she was half convinced she was going to hit a wall before she made it to the Central 46. The electric charge seemed to have vanished once she put distance between herself and Byakuya. With the cool air rushing through her, her head seemed to clear a bit and she remembered _why_ she had pulled that disappearing act. She remembered what happened the last time she had let someone into her heart. She was a fool to put herself in that position again. All she was asking for was heartache and sorrow.

Besides, the Kuchiki Clan was desperate for him to marry someone respectable. Many things could be said about her but respectable was not an adjective Halibel could apply to herself with any kind of seriousness. They all knew the stories of Byakuya's first wife, of the woman whose memory still ruled him. But then, what happened just then? She shoved the thought aside. She had pushed her duty away for long enough because of her confused feelings. The last thing she needed was to linger on them when she had responsibilities to deal with.

"Bel Bel!" Halibel skidded to a stop as Nel appeared next to her, "Bel Bel we have to talk _right now_."

"What's going on?" Halibel's eyes narrowed, "Oh God are you pregnant?"

"Am I what?! No!" Nel shrieked, "No, its much worse," she said seriously, "I came home and _these_ were waiting for me."

From behind her back she pulled a bouquet of flowers. They were the bright reds and oranges and golds of the tattoo that decorated her body. Halibel knew they were from the Kuchiki gardens. She didn't know _how_ she knew that precisely but she did. They were rare in Soul Society but for some reason that was not the important thing. They could have been common flowers just as easily. No, what was important about those flowers was the fact that Renji had given them to Nel.

He wasn't pretending anymore.

From the desperate look in Nel's eyes it was a serious gamble, one that could go either very _very_ well or end in complete disaster.

"They're flowers," Halibel said looking from the blossoms to Nel and back again, "he sent you flowers."

"Yes!" Nel wailed, "No-one's ever sent me flowers before! What am I supposed to _do_?"

"Do? Nel, they're flowers, not a declaration of war."

"Yes! That's the problem!" she looked at the flowers, "I mean, the last time--" Halibel grabbed her shoulders, "Bel Bel?" Nel's eyes widened as she looked up at her.

"Listen to me, Renji Abarai is a nice guy," Halibel said, disbelieving that _she_ was the one to convince someone else to begin a romantic relationship. She was one of, if not the _last_ person who should be doing this, "you two should stop fucking around and just admit you love each other!"

"Love?"

"Yes! Love!" Halibel planted her foot, "and if you _think_ about running away--again--I will get my Zanpakuto out and, so help me God, I will--" she frowned, "I will scalp you!"

"You wouldn't!"

"I would!" she pushed the girl and her flowers on her way, "now go! And don't think I won't find out, because I will find out and if I do your hair is gone."

It was fortunate Nel could make it to Renji's quarters with a single burst of Shunpo. It was even more fortunate that she was terribly fond of her hair and did believe that Halibel would indeed scalp her if she ran away again. She had been planning to do just that. She had successfully avoided him before. Unless his hair was down, then all bets were off. It was a good thing he kept it in that ridiculous ponytail most of the time or she doubted she would be able to do anything. And if the rumors about Matsumoto were true, than her poor Captain was in for even more paperwork. Idly she wondered if the Fifth and the Tenth Divisions would change because their Captains were married now. All she knew was that between her, Matsumoto, Grimmjow and Ichigo, the chances of any paperwork getting done were very _very_ slim.

Squaring her shoulders the Vice Captain raised her fist and rapped on the door to Renji's room.

On his bed Renji felt his lips curl into a smile. He had known sleep was probably not going to happen but he hadn't thought that Nel would be there so soon. He could sense her Spiritual Pressure outside the door. He was lucky to have a friend like Rukia. He had gone to beg her advice. After all, she and Ichigo had tiptoed around each other for, well, for forever and they were married and expecting a kid. She had advised him to do the one thing that had not really crossed his mind--though in hindsight it was painfully obvious.

Be romantic.

She had shoved him out the door with a bouquet of some rare type of flower and the promise of positive results. He hadn't believed her but apparently she knew what she was talking about.

That or he was about to be on the receiving end of a very strong punch.

He slid the door open to see Nel standing there, the flowers gripped in her hand. She didn't look particularly violent, if anything she looked almost afraid.

"Um, I--" she began, her eyes fixed on a spot on the floor, "I wanted to say--" she took a breath and looked at him, "no-one's ever sent me flowers before," he arched an eyebrow but said nothing, "no-one sends me flowers!"

"Glad to be the first," he replied easily.

"Okay I don't do this," she said finally, "I don't do the flowers or the sharing your feelings or the romantic thing. The last time I tried any of that, I got an axe stabbed through my forehead."

"I don't usually do it either," he said, "the last time I did anything romantic--flowers aside--the girl left me for Byakuya Kuchiki remember?"

"Oh right," Nel said feeling almost guilty.

"Look," Renji said stepping across the thresh hold of the door, "I'm not saying that this is forever, or that it'll work out. I'm saying that I miss you. I miss talking to you, hell I miss you stealing my headbands. I'm not objecting to the makeouts in dark corners of the library--or anywhere else for that matter--but I can't just do that anymore. I _like_ talking to you, even if it's not about your feelings."

"I-" Nel looked at the red haired man standing across from her and then at the flowers, "I missed you too," she admitted shyly raising her eyes to meet his.

"Good," he said.

For a moment they were silent.

"We can still make out though, right?" Nel asked abruptly. Renji's eyes widened slightly, "I mean, I miss you and I'm scared but I-I want to try this," she bit her lip, "I mean, only if you want too, I know I was kind of mean and if you want someone else I completely understand and I--" she sighed, "I'm rambling now."

"No, I mean, yes you are but--but its okay," he said, "I would love to, give us another shot I mean."

"Really?!" Nel's eyes lit up. Renji smiled faintly.

"Yes," he said, "really."

"Good," Nel smiled as she stood on her tip toes, "thank you for the flowers," she added.

"So I should do stupid romantic things more often I take it?"

"Well, if you want too," she said softly.

"Hey, I got a whole flower garden to grab from," he said with a grin as she finally closed the distance between them and pressed their lips together in a sweet kiss.

* * *

Matsumoto knew it was rather stalker-like of her but she couldn't help sneaking into Gin's room and looking at him as he slept. It was just that, it had been so long since she had seen him and part of her felt like if she closed her eyes when she opened them he'd be gone again. She felt terrible that she made him cry. She hadn't meant too, really, she had once again blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. Once again it landed her in a world of trouble. After he had muttered something that sounded like an apology and gone of into the bedroom. Matsumoto had tended to the Quincy's and tried to sleep. But it was impossible so then she had gone to speak to him but he was asleep.

Seeing Gin asleep was always rather strange. His features were relaxed, no traces of that crazy grin of his. She knew Gin usually squinted and when he slept his eyelids were smooth. When they were younger Matsumoto had spent hours looking at him until she fell asleep, trying to commit his features to memory because she knew when she opened her eyes again he would be gone. Frowning Matsumoto reached out and prodded Gin's shoulder. Like a true Shinigami his eyes immediately flew open as his hand grabbed Shinso. His eyes registered it was her and a myriad of emotions swam across his eyes but she ignored them.

"When we were kids, where'd you go?" she demanded.

"Huh? Ran its three--"

"Answer the question," she repeated, "where'd you go?"

"When I met you I was already the Third Seat of the Fifth Division," Gin said.

"You were?!" her eyes widened, "but we were kids!"

"I was a prodigy," he replied easily.

"Well _excuse_ me," she said rolling her eyes, "then what the hell were you doing out in that field?" she asked.

"Persimmons."

"Excuse me?"

"I found you because I was out going to get Persimmons," he said, "till I started to grow them there weren't any in the Court of Pure Souls so I used to go to Rukongai to get them and when I was there I felt your Spiritual Pressure and I followed it to you."

"So you're telling me that we met because of your obsession with Dried Persimmons?" she demanded, her voice icy. He nodded.

Gin just wanted to go back to sleep. The entire day had been a trying one and not that he wasn't happy for Rangiku to be there but he could barely keep his eyes open, much less keep any legitimate secrets. Of course he didn't want to, not now that she was back. Sleep had never been easy for Gin and after she died, it had been almost impossible. For the first decade or so every time he closed his eyes all he would see was Ran lying cold and still and, well, dead. After too many sleepless nights someone, he had narrowed it down to Kira or Byakuya, had finally gone to Unohana who had gotten a _sans_ glasses Nanao to tell him that he either took the sleeping pills willingly or they would drug his food. He opted for the former on most days and on the others he imagined they enforced the latter. He had been without the sleeping pills and therefore surprisingly sound asleep when Ran woke him up.

"Yes," he said finally, "thankfully I've got those trees in the Third Division."

"The ones _I_ helped you plant?" she asked with disbelief.

He nodded his confirmation. Matsumoto had to struggle to contain her laughter. She had heard about Gin enlisting most of his Division in carrying the sapling trees to his Division. Unfortunately while the Division was capable of carrying things, planting was entirely another matter. Matsumoto had gone to see Gin attempt to bring out his green thumb only to find a very frustrated, dirt covered Gin swearing at the trees and threatening to shoot them through with Shinso. That had been back when his eyes were not usually open so the entire Third Division had been nothing short of petrified. Except for her who had been on the dirt laughing so hard tears were coming out of her eyes. Eventually with a lot of sake and a few books from the library they had gotten the tree planted. But then, in the fall, there they were, the persimmons. The two had gotten very very drunk in celebration and broke out the last of the dried persimmons that Gin had been hawking.

And then Gin had accidentally eaten a dried taro.

Just the memory of Gin's face contorted in such unbelievable disgust and betrayal was enough to make her laugh. Matsumoto didn't think that taros were that bad but Gin disagreed.

"Are you laughing at me?" he demanded glaring at her.

"Sorry, no," Matsumoto bit back her laughter, "I'm just thinking, do you remember when we got so drunk and you ate that Taro?" she laughed harder, "your face was priceless."

"I hate taros," he muttered.

"I remember that," Matsumoto said with a smile before she sat down on his bed, "so," she looked at him. "I have to ask this, bare with me," she took a breath trying to figure out how best to phrase the question she wanted to ask without causing anymore sorrow to Gin, "do you have a girlfriend now?"

"Do I have a what?!" Gin felt like he had been smacked awake.

Did he have a girlfriend? Was she serious? Did she really think that he had really gone and, and found someone _else_? Did she not realize that the simple idea of it was possibly the stupidest thing he had heard in his entire life? They had never put a label on their relationship really. Sure the two of them had fooled around but he had betrayed her trust when he chose Aizen and she never really got to see what he had done in the wake of her death because she had been, well, she had been dead. From the way she was looking at him it was clear that she was a bit hesitant to ask, almost like she was afraid of the answer he was going to give.

"No," he said finally.

"That's a relief," she said with a smile, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ears, "is it weird that I'm in a different body?"

"Weird is what I do," he said pushing himself up on his forearms.

"Well," she said, "that's good," she looked at him, "would it be okay if I kissed you?"

He felt like a damn schoolboy. He had forgotten how it was so impossible to be in control with her. Rangiku had all of Soul Society wrapped around her little finger, prodigies, Captains, everyone. Now that she was back he had absolutely no doubt that it would take her about five seconds to regain that bewitching control. Wordlessly he nodded as her hair fell from behind her ear to brush against his cheek before the woman herself leaned down and kissed him deeply for the first time in fifty years.

One of Gin's hands reached up and combed through Matsumoto's hair, resting on the back of her head as he shifted upwards, changing the angle. Matsumoto sat down as Gin raised himself up. His hand remained tangled in her hair as his lips trailed fiery kisses down the column of her throat. Matsumoto's hands gripped at the bed sheets as her head fell to the side as Gin swept her hair aside to allow himself better access. God, he remembered everything. Even that one spot on her neck that had her making small, urgent sounds that had his lips curving into his signature grin against the porcelain skin of her throat. Even in light of their absence his movements were the same wicked, slow, predatorily movements they always had been. If he wanted to rush things he certainly didn't show it as he wickedly took his time torturing her.

Many things about Gin could be questioned, but not his abilities as a fighter.

Or a lover.

When she felt herself being pushed backwards Matsumoto shook her head and fought back some semblance of control. He may have changed the world for her but she hadn't been around to see it. Besides, he had betrayed her first and that meant she had to punish him _somehow_. So she pushed him back, seizing his wrists and pinning them above his head as she straddled his hips. Bending down she kissed him deeply, asserting her dominance over the kiss before she kissed a path down the line of his neck, stopping momentarily at the scar on his chest before she kissed that too. Gin's reaction was instantaneous as his back arched under her, a ragged gasp torn from his lips at the sharp change in sensation.

"Fuck, Ran," he gasped out, "wait," she raised her head, "you're in someone else's body, should we--"

"She's not that innocent," Matsumoto said hovering over his face, "besides," she dragged her nails across the scar, "it's been a long _long_ time since I had you alone like this."

In lieu of an answer, Gin lifted his head and kissed her again. Matsumoto returned it with just as much urgency, painfully aware of how long it had been since she had felt Gin's skin against her own. She pulled away with a tauntingly light brush of lips against his own before she sat back, enjoying the sight of how much Gin was affected by her actions. His ruby eyes drifted open as he looked at her sitting back on his hips with a slight frown. Matsumoto crossed her arms and looked down at him. Gin didn't know what was happening, just that he didn't like it one bit. Matsumoto shifted slightly sending aching waves up his body and he fought back a groan as he looked at her.

"W-what?" he demanded looking at her.

"What?" she asked, her grey eyes dancing wickedly.

"Ran," he practically whined her name, desperate for her to do _something_.

"Tell me you like me more than persimmons," she said.

"I'll tell you anything you want," he groaned when she shifted slightly, "anything!"

"I like you begging," she purred uncrossing her arms and tugging slightly at the neckline of her shirt, "tell me," she thought for a moment, "tell me you love me."

"You can't seriously doubt that," he said.

"You never told me," she pouted, "sometimes a girl likes to _hear_ it for once."

"Fine," suddenly she found herself pinned underneath him. Damn him and his prodigal abilities, "I love you," he said.

"Good answer," she said.

"You're supposed to say it back, Ran," he said letting her name slide off his tongue. She pushed him onto his back and resumed her previous position.

"How about," she smirked, "how about I _show_ you," she said pulling her shirt off her head and tossing it aside.

Later she'd say it as well as they fell asleep nestled in each other's arms, finally reunited at last.

* * *

**Hey! Okay so this note is to inform you all of a poll on my profile. Basically I have a basic plan of where a story is going and what's going to happen along with a mock up of chapters. Normally I don't follow this to a t, but its a good thing to have. So I was looking at my mock up and I realized we've reached pretty much the halfway point. **

**I talked to **VioTanequil** who though that this should be one big story and I agree. However big fics intimidate me and so I created a poll to find out whether you as readers would like to have one story or two. Right now I'm inclined to say one but its up to you all. So let me know! Poll is on my page. Oh and while I have your attention, lets go try out that pretty review button okay? Its green! Going green is popular now! **


	19. The Moon

**Okay bad news time people. I had a new chapter almost ready to be beta read but, well, my two great loves--coffee and my computer--decided to get together. Sparks flew, literally, and my computer was down and out.**

**Thankfully I'm a quick rebounder and I am typing from my shiny new computer! I decided to go smaller this time from a 15" to a 13" and its taking some getting used too but its still awesome. Its a lot easier to get around anyway and hey, as long as it works during term paper season I'm happy with it! Anyway because Mac is fucking amazing they were able to recover almost all the data that was on my old computer.**

**And thanks to auto-recovery I've got the chapter almost done! So it should be up relatively soon but I just wanted to forewarn you all. **

**Oh and for those who didn't, go vote on my profile for whether you want one big story or two little ones. I'm leaning towards one story as is **VioTanequil** but you all are the ones reading it. Go vote. **

**Many thanks to beta-extrodinaire **VioTanequil **who ****is as rockin as my new computer**

**

* * *

**

Ichigo slammed against the wall.

So much for being strong.

It seemed that all his time apart from the Vizards had made him forget how powerful they were. It also seemed that Kensei was determined to show him just how big their power difference was. It didn't seem to matter that Kensei hadn't eve touched his Mask yet, the former Captain of the Ninth Division had thoroughly kicked his ass. And then he had kept going, pushing Ichigo past the point where the Vice Captain of the Fifth Division knew he could be pushed. He barely managed to dodge the foot that came dangerously close to his temple, throwing himself into an undignified roll away from Kensei's attack. Pushing himself up he faced the spot where Kensei had been only to feel an elbow slam in between his shoulder-blades, forcing him back to his knees once more. Coughing he went to push himself up and found himself pinned to the ground by Kensei's knee.

"Is that all you got?" the former Captain demanded, "Soul Society must have gotten soft in my absence if they let you be a Seated Officer," Ichigo gritted his teeth and pushed himself upwards but Kensei slammed him back to the ground, "you can't even stand, how are you going to defend them? How are you going to defend Rukia huh?"

Ichigo knew that this was part of the training, that they were trying to bring out something thought long dead but the words still sent icy fingers of doubt down his spine. How was he going to protect them? His Captain, his friends, his family--Rukia--he was going to let them all down. He was going to fail because the strength that had once come to him so easily was suddenly elusive. Despair swelled through him, blocking out everything else. Would this be the time he failed? He had failed before but he had always managed to save it at the last minuet. Was this to be the time that he didn't make in time? Was this the end?

"Are you giving up now, Ichigo?"

Ichigo's head flew up. Gone was the training room. Instead he found himself inside his Inner World on the same building which he had fought his Inner Hollow so many years ago. Turmoil was present in his Inner World, instead of the blue sky laden with fluffy white clouds, the clouds were a stormy grey. Rain was splashing down onto the buildings, soaking his back. Standing in front of him glaring down at him was Zangetsu. Ichigo looked up at his Zanpakuto Spirit. Zangetsu did not look happy. The rain had slicked his hair to his scalp and dampened the edges of his coat. Pearls of water dotted the lenses of his glasses but his eyes were clear and blazing beneath them.

"Zangetsu," Ichigo looked down, "I made it rain again, didn't I?" he guiltily remembered how much his Zanpakuto Spirit hated the rain.

"Yes, you did," Zangetsu said coolly, "your heart is in chaos. Despair runs deep through you. You know what you must do and yet you do not want to do it."

"I know I have to bring him back," Ichigo said, "but if I do--if I find him again, if I defeat him, I'm still a Vizard again. I can't go home then. What the hell am I supposed to do?"

"How do you find the strength to do what you must when you know it will cost you everything?" Zangetsu said, once again speaking far more eloquently than Ichigo ever could. Ichigo nodded, "your strength has always been a culmination of the forces inside you and outside you. You must always have someone to protect or you are powerless."

"I know that! And I know who I have to protect but--"

"You do not know who you have to protect," Zangetsu said, "you will have to fight for three souls now Ichigo."

"Three souls?" Ichigo's brow furrowed, "what do you mean three soul--" Ichigo froze, his heart seeming to stop in his chest, "Rukia is," he took a breath, "Rukia's pregnant?"

"Yes," Zangetsu said, "Sode and I had thought there was a possibility but I can think of nothing else that would keep her from your side," he looked at Ichigo, "you will not just fight for you anymore, but for all of you."

For a moment Ichigo felt numb. Rukia was pregnant. His wife was going to have their baby. They were going to be parents. He expected fear to surge through him but it did not hit. Or at least, not about being a parent. If anything the feeling that surged through him was protectiveness. He was in the Real World and Rukia was in Soul Society. If he had been guilty about leaving her before it paled in comparison to the feeling he had now. He knew she would understand that he had to do this but he also knew that it wasn't easy for her to be left behind. And if she had discovered the pregnancy while she was alone--he knew Rukia was strong but that had to be jarring. He had thought that when he returned he was in for a good ass kicking but he doubted that it would be from Rukia now which meant--

"Oh fuck, Byakuya's going to murder me," he groaned burying his face in his hands.

"Probably," Zangetsu said dryly, still obviously not happy about the rain,

"What am I supposed to do Zangetsu?" Ichigo demanded, "If I return to how I was, if I bring him back, then I can't go home. I need to protect Rukia, to protect my family, but what if--" he looked at his Zanpakuto spirit almost desperately, "what if I'm not strong enough?"

"I thought you outgrew this childish doubt years ago," Zangetsu said with a sniff of disdain, "you're strong enough when you believe you are. The only thing this doubt will do is get you and your family hurt or killed."

"I know but--"

"No buts!" Ichigo turned his head, the training room swinging back into focus as he took in the sight of a less than thrilled Shinji Hirako, "you don't get to question what you're doing."

"Huh? But--"

"Shut the fuck up," the former Captain snapped, "we know more than you. You're not in Soul Society anymore and unless you want it to crash and burn, I suggest you remember what training with us is like. You didn't finish your training last time and you pretty much got your ass handed to you."

"I did not," Ichigo snarled.

"Really? Because from where I'm standing you look pretty dead to me."

Ichigo swore. He had died during the Winter War, they had all died during the Winter War. And then they had been reborn in Soul Society and miraculously remembered their previous lives. Orihime had said that 'they' said they had to remember but Ichigo was willing to bet Zangetsu that it wasn't a 'them' it was a single person. A single voice that said they had to remember. He didn't know what the owner of the voice looked like, just that it was distinctly female and left no room for any kind of argument. Oh and that he was pretty sure he had heard it somewhere before but he couldn't place it. He hadn't really been able to place it since his death and he had just accepted that some mysterious stranger was doing a good deed. He was very thankful to them but he had a feeling they had not seen the last of whoever it was.

"I can't just give up everything," Ichigo gritted his teeth looking at Shinji, "there has to be another way!"

"What? You shouting something heroic and stupid and then bursting into a flash of light like a fucking comic book character? Oh good plan," he said with a roll of his eyes, "but unfortunately I wouldn't bet on killing the last Espada that way."

"So what? Who else is going to kill him," Ichigo demanded shoving himself up, "you all won't set a foot in Soul Society. You all up and ran when we needed you."

"I would be very careful about what your next words are," Shinji said, his voice tight.

"I said you're all cowards! When's the last time any of you fought for something you believed in huh?! All you do is run and then when we really need you, you swoop in and save us all before you fucking vanish again!" he was shouting and he didn't care, "you're worse than he is! At least he has a clear side!"

Spiritual Pressure so powerful it stole his breath away slammed into Ichigo. He choked, falling to his knees as effectively as if Kensei's boot had slammed into his stomach and knocked all the air out of him. That, coupled with the last time he had eaten whatever Orihime cooked. He felt sick and drained and so completely overwhelmed that he was about to collapse. And collapse he did, a moment later. The last thing he was aware of was Mashiro's foot coming into his view.

"He told you to be careful," she said with a shake of her head before Ichigo passed out fully.

* * *

When Ichigo came too again he was lying on the ground still. Though he wasn't sure how long he had been out the change of angle in the light suggested it had been for a fairly substantial amount of time. A pair of loafer clad feet swung into his view and he arched his neck to see Shinji standing above him, his eyes regarding him with the kind of seriousness that Ichigo rarely saw.

"Shinji," he pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the way his head spun, "did you feel tha--" he stopped and looked at him, "that was you?!" he shouted, "I've never felt Spiritual Pressure like that before! When the hell'd you get that powerful?!"

"A very long time ago," Shinji replied, his voice still serious.

Being a Captain, Ichigo assumed Shinji had a fairly large Spiritual Pressure. But he beat the shit out of Captains all the time. The last time Ichigo had been that crippled by Spiritual Pressure was when he had first met Byakuya and Renji when they came to take Rukia back. He still felt the after affects and Shinji hadn't even attacked him. Part of him was indignant at how weak he felt in comparison, part of him wasn't surprised that yet another of his teachers was far more than they seemed but the majority of him was thoroughly impressed.

He knew he shouldn't have been. Even when he first started training with the Vizards it was clear that even if they were all very powerful Shinji trumped them all. Even if Hiyori tackled him constantly he got the distinct feeling that if he decided to Shinji could put them all in a box in an instant--Hiyori included. Though the blond girl would probably find a way to resurrect herself and come back at him in no time.

"I understand your impatience and desire to kill Wonderwice," he said, "and to protect all those I love and blah blah blah," he said with a wave when Ichigo opened his mouth, "but you're not ready for that."

"I don't have to be the one to kill him," Ichigo snarled, "I'm not looking to be a hero. He just has to be dead," he gritted his teeth and dropped to the ground, bowing in front of Shinji "they need to be safe, if it's not by my hand, then by yours."

Shinji wanted nothing more than to tell the orange haired man to shove it. He knew he was powerful. He knew he was one of the oldest Captains. He knew that if he put a foot in Soul Society there was a damn good chance he was going to attract the attention of whoever the hell was picking the newest Commander General. If there was one thing Shinji did not want it was to spend the next two thousand or so years in Soul Society listening to all the drama of the Captains. He was not arrogant enough to think that he would be the Commander General. Shinji had made a lot of mistakes in his life. But on the off, off chance that they saw something in him, that they made the biggest mistake of all in naming him Commander General, well, Shinji would rather die--again.

"And you don't want to bring your Inner Hollow back?" Shinji asked, "That was the original plan."

"Plans change," Ichigo said.

"As much as it pains me to say this, he does bring up an excellent point," Uryuu said pushing his glasses up on his nose, "it would be foolish to depend on the instability of his Spiritual Pressure for a definite victory," he sniffed, "and bringing his Hollow back after its demise might be impossible or at the very least more trouble than its worth."

Ichigo groaned, wondering how Ishida could make him seem, instead of noble, incompetent. From the way he was watching them, Ichigo got the distinct feeling that the Quincy was planning something else. Now all he had to do was figure out what that 'something else' was.

* * *

"I'm worried about her."

Hisagi looked over at Sun Sun. The 3rd Seat was by the window, her fingers twisting around themselves. Halibel had vanished with nothing but a message only to return, literally throw herself into paperwork before disappearing into her quarters without so much as a word to either of them. It reminded Sun Sun of the days back in Las Noches, days of the Espada and of a time better forgotten. Things had changed beyond the point she even knew was possible. It had made her forget how things used to be.

Halibel had never been cruel to her Fraccion but the relationship she had now with her Captain was a far cry from the one she had when they were both Hollows. Sun Sun knew all of Las Noches had looked at Halibel with a combination of respect and fear and if they didn't, well, it was only a matter of time before they did. She had picked her female Fraccion because Halibel's opinion of the males in Las Noches was extremely low. After what happened to Neliel and Nnoitra, her opinion had only sunk lower. Sun Sn knew that she, Mila Rose and Apache were chosen because of their strength and the fact that they were female and aside from Apache's sometimes friendship, sometimes rivalry with Grimmjow they largely disliked the men of Soul Society.

Halibel had come a bit out of her shell since coming to Soul Society but Sun Sun knew the coldness had not yet fully gone out of Halibel's eyes. She knew that Halibel had fought Wonderwice and the only thing that she could think that would send her Captain into such a state was if Wonderwice brought up Halibel's death. Though she did not know the particulars, Sun Sun knew that the Espada were all driven individuals. Even Stark who seemed like the laziest thing on the planet had been driven once upon a time. Driven enough to be making up for something, for what happened when they died. The Espada all died in horrible ways with a lot of unfinished business.

Sun Sun wrapped her arms around her middle and shivered at the sudden cold.

"Hey, are you okay?" Hisagi frowned, concerned.

"I'm just, I'm worried," Sun Sun said looking out the window, "the King is coming and we may look the same now but we are different," she sighed, "what's he going to think when he sees that there are Arrancars here?"

Hisagi sighed, knowing she had a point even if he did not want to admit it. He knew they had been Hollows and even if the truth was that they had been changed by two rather crazed scientists at their heart they still had unfinished business in the Living World. Though he hated himself for it he had been wary of Halibel and Sun Sun when they first came to Soul Society. And even when he respected them both part of him had still been holding out screaming that they were enemies. It had taken a lot for them to trust the Shinigami as well. But they had all come very far from the enemies that had met on the battlefield because of the whims of a power hungry crazed man.

Hisagi got to his feet and walked over to the window where Sun Sun was. She made no move to turn and look at him, her eyes still fixed on the window. The Third Seat looked rather close to tears. Concern flared in Hisagi.

"He's not going to like that we're here," she said, her voice soft, "he's going to send us away."

"You don't know that," Hisagi argued, trying desperately to ignore the cold fear that twisted in his stomach.

The King wouldn't do that, he couldn't do that. Not to Grimmjow who was loud and obnoxious and more loyal than anyone Hisagi had ever met. Not to Ulquiorra who for all his quietness was possibly the most insightful person in Soul Society. Or to bright, happy Nel who seemed to make the world a bit happier just by being in it. Or to funny Dondochakka who was a staple at their drinking parties. And especially not to Halibel who as an amazing fighter, friend and leader or Sun Sun who may have been quiet and shy but was one of the first people Hisagi let himself trust--let himself love. They weren't Arrancar or Espada--they simply had been at one point, like he had once been unscarred or the Ryoka had once been alive. They had changed, they had all changed.

Hisagi knew life without any of them would be unbearable. Not just for him but for Renji and Orihime and Soifon, for all the people in Soul Society who had come to care for them. It wasn't like they were nameless, faceless people on a battlefield, they were trusted friends and lovers, they were members of the big, crazy family Soul Society was. Admittedly Hisagi had never cared terribly much for the Commander General but if he needed a reason to dislike him more, this was it.

His eyes darted down to where Sun Sun had her fingers locked tightly around each other, though he was sure that if her hands were loose there would probably be tremors. He reached out and covered her hands with his own, gently disentangling her fingers before she hurt herself. Sun Sun's eyes swung from the window to their joined hands before she hesitantly raised her eyes to meet his own.

"I don't want to go," she said softly. He opened his mouth, "please don't say it's not going to happen. It might and I-" she took a breath, "I don't want to just disappear."

"I know," he said, unable to bring himself to lie to her, "and if this King is powerful enough to send you away then he's powerful enough to see that you all are important parts of life here. That people care about you. He won't just send you away."

"I hope not," she said.

"Hey!" the door was slammed open by Nel, "oh, sorry--" she looked around, "um, where's Bel Bel?" Sun Sun nodded towards the door, "thanks!" Nel ran through the door, "Bel Bel guess what?!"

Halibel was not in the mood for guessing games. Though she had absolutely no doubt that Nel was about two seconds from shouting that she was in love with Renji Abarai all over Soul Society, Halibel was having trouble finding joy in the long-delayed romance. She had been up for most of the right, her dreams definitely not the kind that allowed for any kind of rest. They were dreams that meant trouble for the Captain, dreams that involved a certain man with the uncanny ability to make Sakura blossoms seem masculine. All that came of it was Halibel's certainty that the next time she saw Byakuya Kuchiki's silk scarf she was going to turn bright red.

Because of a dream.

No, not a dream. Not just a dream anyway. It was all because of that stupid graveyard. Why had he come look for her and what in God's name had happened there? She had seen men look at her with lust filled glances but she had never reciprocated the feeling. They had always disgusted her with their leering. But Byakuya Kuchiki was not a man who leered. No, he looked at her like she was the only other person in the world. No-one had ever looked at her like that. No-one had ever robbed her of her careful control with a look before. She didn't know if she should be furious or flattered and settled finally on somewhere between the two at about four in the morning.

Her travel back from the graveyard had cleared her head somewhat but the second she got inside the thoughts returned and when she was lying in bed, the only thing she could think of was that he would have kissed her if not for the untimely appearance of his guards. Her dreams had been filled with teasing caresses of silk and hair coupled with aristocratic hands that did very un-aristocratic things to her. However pleasant they were the dreams were very unwelcome given the current situation, unwelcome and confusing.

She had always been intrigued by Byakuya Kuchiki. First and foremost as an opponent. Like all the Espada she had watched his sister's fight with Aaroniero but it had been more like an appetizer. The whispers had been that her brother was going to come and woe be to anyone who got in his way. Even if she had not witnessed it, like any true warrior, she could appreciate what he did to Zommari. Her first real sight of him was when she and Nel had been in the midst of their transformation. Oh, and they had been completely naked. He had said nothing about that, in fact he had helped them get cloths, for which she would be eternally grateful to him.

Since then they had shared a professional relationship. Both were Captains and both were part of a group that was rather close knit after their adventure in Las Noches. She got along with him just fine. If anything they enjoyed each other's company.

Of course she thought he was attractive.

Unavailability aside, she had a feeling that there wasn't a woman in Soul Society--and a few men if the rumors were true--who didn't find Byakuya Kuchiki attractive. But for some reason, in the very recent past, she had found herself steadily growing more attracted to the Kuchiki Head. Perhaps it had something to do with his family's desire to marry him off and the way he shot them all down. Or maybe it was because she kept getting hurt and he kept saving her--that was actually a bit more embarrassing. Halibel did not 'do' being saved very well but for some reason it was not all that horrible when he was the one saving her. And after last night, it only seemed to have gotten worse.

All in all it was making for a very frustrating, very unproductive morning, not something Halibel needed at the moment.

"Bel Bel," Nel came over and sat on the desk, peering around, "wow, are you okay? You're doing paperwork like I do."

"You don't do paperwork," Halibel said.

"Exactly," Nel said taking in the blank documents, "what happened? You don't look like you got any sleep last night."

"I had a lot on my mind," Halibel replied, groping for something to change the subject to, "I take it I don't have to get my Zanpakuto?"

"Nope," Nel said with a grin, "I am officially dating."

"Surprise surprise," Halibel said sarcastically.

"You should try dating, Bel Bel," Nel said with a happy sigh.

Halibel buried her face in her palms, wishing that Wonderwice would hurry up and get here so she could kill something.


	20. The Sun

**First off as you know, Dwellin has done some gorgeous fanart for "Silent Fore" as has Airumel. But Airumel has given the first piece of fanart for both stories. She did an awesome drawing of our favorite sexy twosome GrimmFon. Its a great pic and I suggest you all go to her DeivantArt page and check it out.**

**This chapter got out so fast because **VioTanequil **is like Super-Beta! **

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Soifon was bent over her papers, desperately trying to finish the last few things she had to before the war hit them. The Winter War had proven to her that was made a lot of paperwork. She had to have a clean desk before the world ended or it would take decades more again. Not to mention Grimmjow had been acting strange ever since he admitted the guilt he felt over his role in Ulquiorra's death. All the former Espada had been acting strange, even Ulquiorra. Soifon had been busy as well, preparing for whatever was going to come. The waiting was exhausting and excruciating, full of late nights and hours of sleep plagued with dreams that did nothing to aide her rest. Sometime she wouldn't even make it home and sometimes neither would he.

Soifon was furious at how soft she had become. Missing people? Missing a _man_? After watching Yoruichi choose Kisuke Urahara over, well, over everything Soifon had been determined not to care that much about another person. Especially not about a man. She had told herself that she didn't care _that_ much about Grimmjow. Sure they lived together and yes, they had a good time together, but still, part of her held onto the childish belief that if the world ended she'd be perfectly fine. Soifon was an ice queen, she was an island. The world couldn't hurt her if she hurt it first--right? Apparently the answer to that question was a big fat wrong. And it was beginning to piss Soifon off. So she did what she did with every other useless piece of emotional crap and stuffed it as far into the back of her mind as she could before focusing on absolutely anything else.

Even paperwork.

"Whatcha doin?"

Soifon's fingers almost snapped her brush in half. Leaning against the doorway watching her was the last person she wanted to see. Grimmjow Jeagerjaques. Soifon gave him a glare that promised a world of pain before ducking her head again and focusing on the papers.

Inwardly Grimmjow winced, knowing he was in serious trouble. He didn't think she was necessarily mad at him, she was angry at herself for caring. It reminded him of the beginnings of their relationship. Their first kiss had technically been when he had to make sure no-one heard her scream when he saved her from being poisoned by stabbing her through with Suzumebachi. The first time they had kissed not out of fear for their lives but out of no less necessity had been during a sparring match when he had her pinned against the wall and he felt as though if he _didn't_ kiss her, he was going to go fucking crazy. The early part of their relationship had continued in that sort of a fashion. They would stay away from each other until neither could bare it anymore and then they would collide together with the force of two comets.

He knew she hated herself for caring about him, not because he was an Espada but because he was another person. He didn't know her real name when he first met her. He knew they were an odd pair, he had never really given a fuck about rules and she had never really cared about anything else. He teased her that she liked him because of the whole 'cat' thing, she retaliated by showing up in a leopard print slip that had _him_ think cats could be really fucking sexy. Their relationship was push and pull. He doubted either of them really acknowledged the fact that his quarters at the Fifth Division were gathering dust. Living together was what people in love did. It was what Ulquiorra or Ichigo did with their big stupid romantic love stories and Grimmjow was _not_ in love.

And that feeling curling his stomach was _not_ concern.

Pushing off the wall he walked fully into the office, glad that Ulquiorra wasn't there. Soifon continued to ignore him but even he could tell that she was very aware of his presence and doing her best to ignore it. Well it was all part of the challenge of dating a woman who a few decades ago didn't know the names of the people in her guard detail. She continued to ignore him as he made his way to her desk. Her brush strokes were always strong and precise, more like surgery than calligraphy. At the moment though it looked like she was trying to carve the words into stone instead of paper. Grimmjow grinned, enjoying the sight of her 'ice queen' act going on.

"Ignoring me?" he asked not being stupid enough to touch her. She continued to steadfastly ignore him, "that's not very nice."

"When have I ever been nice?" she demanded glancing upwards before turning back to the paper only to find the desk bare, "Grimmjow!"

"Rebuilding for the fifth building of the Second Division?" he read off the paper, "section four of twelve?! Okay, I gotta be more interesting than this."

"Give that back!" he maneuvered the desk between them, "damn it Grimmjow! I don't want to go into this with a lot of paperwork! Do you have any idea how much paperwork war involves?!"

"No idea," he said with a shrug, "I wasn't a Seated Officer back then and this time I have every intention of pawning it all off on Ichigo using his overwhelming feelings of guilt," her eyes narrowed, "your just jealous because you've got no-one to do it too."

"I take responsibility for my paperwork," Soifon argued, hating that she felt the need to justify herself.

"Oh I'm sure you do," he said with a taunting grin, "which could be why your office chair has seen more of you than I have."

Her eyes narrowed and in the next instant the paper he had been holding was snatched from his fingers and in her hand. Placing the paper on the desk Soifon went to sit down only to find her chair was suddenly gone and it was only her reflexes that saved her from a fair amount of embarrassment.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded icily as Grimmjow held her chair in his fingers.

"Eliminating the competition," he said with an easy shrug. Soifon's eyes narrowed dangerously but Grimmjow had long ago accepted the fact that she could--and would--kill him if she felt like it. He was just happy knowing that if she did he wasn't going to be carpets, "or maybe I should try this out, see what all the fuss is about," he added straddling the chair, "nah, I don't see it."

"You give me back that chair right now," Soifon hissed.

"Or?"

In hindsight it was probably not the wisest thing to do. Actually Grimmjow knew taunting Soifon--especially when she was in one of those moods when she tried to convince herself she didn't care about the world---was not a wise idea. But he had always been a stubborn man and a part of him enjoyed the fact that she could kick his ass and still somehow look hot when she did it. True to form she took back her chair and left Grimmjow wondering if he should be clutching his stomach or somewhere decidedly lower. Seeing nothing wrong with her methods Soifon turned back to paperwork leaving a wheezing Grimmjow on the other side of her desk. He regained his breath and raised his eyes, peering at her through his blue bangs. She was impassive as always. But hey, if she wanted to play rough then he was all game for rough.

"Captain."

Unless Ulquiorra came in.

"No, fuck no," Grimmjow turned around and shoved the former Fourth Espada backwards, "your shitty timing is going to have to take a fucking holiday because I am about to get some payback," Ulquiorra's emerald eyes narrowed.

"We are at war," he said icily, "I need to speak to _my _Captain."

"Yeah? Well I need to have some hot angry sex so you can go take your crappy timing and shove it," he said slamming the door in Ulquiorra's face.

"Who said I was going to have sex with you?" Soifon demanded icily, "you've been ignoring me just as muc--"

With a burst of Shunpo that made even Soifon proud Grimmjow kicked her chair away and pulled her flush against his chest, one of his broad arms around her lower back, his other against the bare skin of her shoulders. Before she could command Suzumebachi or instigate any kind of sparring match he crushed their lips together. Despite her earlier words, Soifon met his lips eagerly, returning the heated kiss as one of her own hands came up to tangle in his blue hair, pushing his face closer to hers. He shifted somehow so that her balance was lost and the only thing keeping her upright was his arms. Through the pleasant haze that had settled in her mind Soifon could still appreciate how easily Grimmjow seemed to change her mind about the whole not caring thing.

Grimmjow's hand slid decidedly lower, his movements powerful and assured. She doubted Grimmjow did anything half-assed or teasing. His intentions were pure and very, _very_ obvious as he pushed her onto the desk. His hands moved from being wrapped around her to parting her legs with insistence and settling himself between them, molding their chests together. The two knew each other's bodies perfectly, they knew how to press each other's buttons physical and otherwise.

Dipping his head, he worked his lips along the column of her throat, starting behind her ear and working towards the juncture of her shoulder. A highly trained bodyguard, Soifon knew that the neck was a very vulnerable spot and the teasing mixture of soft lips and hard teeth was almost more than she could stand. Her head dropped to the side as his hand toyed with her braid, snaking up it her short hair and burying his fingers in it. Just the thought of what those hands could do to her worked a low moan from Soifon's throat as she felt Grimmjow grin against her skin. If there was one thing Grimmjow truly loved it was his ability to shatter Soifon's finely wrought control. He loved the feeling of knowing that if there was only one thing on her mind it was _him_.

She probably didn't even realize they were on Ulquiorra's desk.

Ulquiorra was not amused as he glared at the door. He had a feeling that Grimmjow was probably doing something disgusting on his desk. They were at war and as usual Grimmjow was fooling around. Emerald eyes glinting, Ulquiorra turned and walked back home. If he wasn't going to be able to talk to Soifon immediately he certainly wasn't going to wait outside her door. Walking back to his apartment, he opened the door. Crossing the hallway from the bathroom was Orihime wearing nothing but a towel, her sunset colored hair hanging unbound across her shoulders.

"Ulquiorra," she gasped turning her head, her hands clutching the towel tighter over her breasts. It was funny how after all this time she still blushed sometimes around him, "y-you're back early," she said.

"Yes, it seems Grimmjow felt his needs were more important than a war briefing," Ulquiorra said, the indignance he felt helping to clear his head a little bit.

"Oh," Orihime said, her lips curving into a smile, "so we have a bit huh?"

"Yes," he said, knowing full well what she meant.

Between his emotional anguish and her saving people left and right, the two had barely had time to see each other for anything short of reassurance. And now they were alone for a bit of time. No duty, no threat, just Orihime in a too short towel that had Ulquiorra wondering why he was wearing so much clothing. Orihime seemed to have had the same general idea because she stepped forward until they were toe to toe before she had met him halfway and pressed their lips together.

Her hands slipped from the towel, letting the fabric pool to the ground around her ankles as she reached up to cup his cheeks, pulling him closer. Her thumbs brushed the lines from his eyes that had once been decorated with cyan lines before they snaked backwards to bury themselves in his hair. But she did not still, her hand slipped down his shoulders to the front of his robe where she tugged the fabric apart as Ulquiorra's hands settled on the curve of her waist. Orihime had always thought Ulquiorra's gestures were graceful, even when he had brought her food and threatened her. Later when he had first touched her cheek, his skin no longer hardened, the thought had only been reinforced. When Orihime found out what Ulquiorra could do with those hands, well, she still thought they were graceful but it was an entirely different matter.

His robe hit the ground in a pile of fabric as she stepped out of the circle her towel had created, his hand sliding around to her spine as he pulled her closer to him. One of his hands came up to slip through her damp hair. He had always found her sunset colored hair beautiful. There were very few mirrors in Las Noches and he had never found his appearance something he wanted to see. Despite Grimmjow's blue locks and his emerald eyes the sight of Orihime's bright sunset hair spilling over the shoulders of her white cloths had almost stopped his heart even before he knew what the damn thing was. He had seen real sunsets now and he still thought Orihime's hair was more exquisite than any of the colors they showed.

Dizziness washed over them as an alien power swept across their forms. Orihime's eyes flew open as she heard her fairies cry out in alarm.

"What's going on?" she demanded looking around.

"I don't know," Ulquiorra said disentangling himself from her and walking over to the window. Orihime wrapped the towel tightly around his form and walked over to the window.

The clear sky of Soul Society was darkening rapidly as grey clouds rolled in across the sky. With a lead weight in his chest, Ulquiorra heard thunder echoed from the clouds and watched as snow began to cover Soul Society.

"He's coming."

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"You want us to go back to Soul Society?!" Hiyori all but screamed, "are you out of your fucking mind?!"

Shinji said nothing, his fingers gripping the edges of the counter. Though she made no move to physically confront him, yet, he had no doubt she was close to it. She was obviously furious. She could join the fucking club, he was pretty furious at himself. He hadn't _meant _to agree to Ichigo's request but it seemed that he had signed them up for something no-one was really prepared to do. Kensei had stalked off to go and hit something else. Even Mashiro had seemed more silent and angry than he had seen her in some time as she went off in the opposite direction. Of course Hiyori had stalked right after him and cornered him, obviously with the intent of letting him have it.

"Damn it you don't get to make all these decisions for us!"

"Then go!" he roared turning on her.

Hiyori's eyes widened in surprise. It had been a long time since she had seen Shinji genuinely angry, even longer since she had seen him angry at _her_. But anger was written all over his face. Anger and something akin to grief, something she wouldn't have recognized if she hadn't seen it on her own features when she looked in a mirror sometimes. Rationally she knew she should be understanding or kind or, God forbid, nice. But those things had never really applied to her before and death did not seem like a particularly good reason to start doing either of them.

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" she demanded, her eyes boring into his, "you'd fucking _love_ it if another person left huh? Because then, you know, then you can just write the whole God Damn world off like you did yourself!"

"Now you're defending Soul Society?" he seethed, "your loyalty really has changed."

"Don't you dare lecture me on loyalty!" Hiyori all but screamed at him.

"Oh yes, Hiyori Sarugaki, the picture of loyalty," he hissed, "congratulations! You win the big shiny prize: being a cold bitch! All you do is shove the world away, hurt everyone before they hurt you because you're too damn scared to care. I'm sure Kirio would be really fucking proud of you."

The slap of skin on skin was somehow different then any of the other times she had hit him. She didn't slap him or kick him, she backhanded him across the cheek. Maybe it was different because for the first time she used her Spiritual Pressure to punctuate the attack. Maybe because under her blond bangs her eyes were swimming with barely contained angry tears. Either way Shinji felt guilt surge through him before shoving those feelings aside.

"Do _not_ bring her into this," she snarled, her voice dripping venom, "I dealt with her leaving me a long time ago."

"And yet the world's still an arms length away," he said, his voice dripping sarcasm.

"Like you're any better! You don't hold the world an arms length you've given up on it! Nothing matters to you anymore. Soul Society, the Transient World, the Vizards--nothing! You just drink and fuck and hope no-one sees that you're as broken as the rest of us! At least I tried to let you in! You, you just left!"

"And yet here we are having this conversation," he said.

"Yes," she said, "well lets end this right now," she turned and walked out of the room, "you want to destroy yourself? Fine! But I am not waiting around to watch it," she grabbed her Zanpakuto and stepped out into the night.

Shinji watched her walk out, torn between rage and sadness. Swearing all kinds of pain on the woman he yanked on the first pair of shoes that he found and raced out after her. She had parked her car in a garage a few blocks from where he lived and he knew that she wouldn't use Shunpo. Unfortunately he knew that when she was angry Hiyori tended to walk much more quickly than normal. Sure enough she was already far enough ahead that it took him a moment to spot her among the few people milling around. He ran forward until he was close enough to reach out and grab her arm but she moved it away, not breaking her stride to look at him.

"Damn it Hiyori," he swore grabbing her, "would you wait a minuet?"

"Why should I?!" she shouted breaking his grip and pushing him backwards, "give me one fucking reason I should! So you can keep doing these stupid things, so you can--" she took a gasping breath as though she had run a mile, "so you can keep making me care--making me believe and then just ripping it all away again?!"

Shinji's fingers balled themselves into fists but he made no move to strike her. He had never been able to strike her. It was ironic really, there were very few people that Shinji couldn't beat--or at the very least have an excellent chance of beating--except for a woman who was still petite despite an obvious growth spurt. If anyone tried half the things Hiyori did they would be on their way back to the reincarnation cycle. The two of them stood in the middle of the sidewalk, people milling around them and kept right on arguing.

Hiyori had already stubbornly forced the tears back, determined not to show any more weakness than she already had. The kiss had shaken her up immensely. They may not have taken it much farther but whatever he did to her had left an imprint on her. Womanizer, playboy, badass ex-Captain Shinji Hirako had kissed her. And then they had pretended like nothing happened. Though she wouldn't tell him, Shinji had always had a strange ability to reach past the walls she built up and cut to her core. When he had left, it hurt. When she thought she was just another meaningless woman, that hurt just as badly.

"You know what? Forget it," she said turning around to go before she faced him, "you're right. I keep the world at an arm's length and that's exactly how I like it! I like not being hurt! Especially not by playboys like you! I felt your Spiritual Pressure when Yamamoto died and I didn't come. I didn't come because I didn't think you needed me," she shrugged her shoulders, "I'm glad I was right."

Shinji wished she had punched him. It would have been a thousand times easier if she had punched him instead of standing there and telling him that she didn't care--that _he_ didn't care. He did care, that was the bitch of it. He cared more than he knew how to tell her. And now she was about to dismiss over two hundred years of a relationship that had stared out as intrigue then became an odd sort of friendship, then became so much more. Now he wasn't sure a label even existed for what they were. But he did care, that he knew. From the way Hiyori was looking at him, she didn't. The former Vice Captain gave him one last scathing look and turned to go.

Faster than he had in years, Shinji reacted. His hand snapped out and grabbed her arm. When she used the momentum to add force to her fist, he caught he wrist and stopped it. Once again they were facing each other, one of his hands on her arm, one on her wrist. Hiyori's eyes widened momentarily before they narrowed and she tugged backwards.

"Let me go," she ordered.

"No."

"Damn it Shinji, I swear to god if you don't let me go I'll scream."

"I do care," he said before he lowered his hands.

The burst of power echoed through her and it didn't come from Shinji. Everything in her screamed to pass out by Hiyori had always been a fighter. Shoving the desire down she looked over at Shinji. The only indication of the effect of the powerful force was a slight narrowing of the former Fifth Division Captain's eyes.

"Something's happening," he said. She nodded, not trusting her voice, "I don't want to go back," he said looking at her, "but if I don't, there isn't going to be anywhere to run."

He turned to go when Hiyori's hand grabbed his.

"I know," the former Vice Captain said, her voice matching his serious tone.

With a burst of Shunpo, the two landed in Shinji's apartment. Ichigo, Kensei and Mashiro were already there, Mashiro a bit paler but Ichigo and Kensei looking otherwise unaffected. Uryuu was talking quietly on his phone to someone before hanging up. He looked at the four of them.

"Gin and Matsumoto are going to meet us there," he said.

"Can she take a Spiritual Form?" Ichigo demanded looking at him.

"Probably," Uryuu said, "and despite Captain Ichimaru's injuries, I have a feeling he will be alright as well."

"Good," Kensei said, "if we're going up against Oscar, Hitsugaya, Kyouraku, Yoruichi, Yamamoto and Ukitake we're going to need all the help we can get."

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**For those who don't remember those are all the Zanpakto's that have been absorbed. Hitsugaya and Ukitake are both partially water.**

**So this is obviously a set up for the battle but I hope this holds you over for a bit since Enchantable's off for her own Thanksgiving Extravaganza. **

**A very smart reviewer pointed out that as far as chapter titles go I'm running out. The plan was always to have the battle chapters named after Tarot Card spreads. As of right now this is going to be one mega-story. Fortunately its called Arcana and there's a lot more Tarot Cards. Its working out very nicely actually 4 Espada=4 suites--with the respective fraccion falling under their Espada's suite. Also Major Arcana is for big things and Minor is for everyday things.**

**Yes that's a big hint. There have been hints throughout the story. **

**Don't worry, you'll understand soon. **

**Happy Thanksgiving to all!**


	21. Mandala

**Chapter Titles for now are Spreads, what's used to read the Tarot Deck**

**All thanks for the speed go to once again super-beta **VioTanequil

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"Okay," Matsumoto stepped forward, "get me out of this body."

Gin swallowed and looked at her, unsure. There was a chance that if he removed her Spiritual Body she would not survive. Even according to Urahara who had seen a lot what happened to her was something he had only heard of, never seen. In his hand Gin held the glove that would allow himself to pull Matsumoto from the body she was in. it felt like a lead weight. If this didn't work, if her soul was too weak, then she would be gone once again.

He would kill her again.

"Gin," Matsumoto's hands came up and cupped his cheeks, "I'll be alright."

There was nothing but reassurance in her eyes. Even after everything she had faith in him. Slowly he found himself nodding, allowing himself to believe her words. Tightening the glove on his hand he gently touched the skin of her collar bone before withdrawing his hand slightly. He slammed his hand forward, fingers grasping a Spirit Body instead of a normal one. There was some resistance, and as he pulled and something snapped but almost instantly the body crumpled to the ground and his hand was against not the slightly unfamiliar features of the woman below their feet but the familiar face of Rangiku Matsumoto.

He didn't think he had gotten out of a gigai faster in his entire life. Rangiku met his embrace eagerly. Their Spiritual bodies were both weaker than they usually would be but they were still capable of fighting. Even though they had sex the night before without the gigais as a buffer even touching her was dizzying. Despite everything she still smelled like Ran. She felt like Ran. He was torn between wanting to cry and wanting to flip off Soul Society and spending the rest of his life in the little shop's bedroom with her. Rangiku closed her eyes, her arms tightening around him.

"I missed you," she said, almost shyly.

"I missed you too," he said with a grin before he extended a hand to her, "shall we go save the world again?"

"That's right," Matsumoto said with an affectionate smile, "you already saved the world."

"Just a few times," he said.

"Oh just a few," she repeated teasingly, "still so modest," she tucked a lock of her strawberry blond hair behind her ear, "well then, I'm interested to see how 'good' you can be."

"Not too good," he said withdrawing Shinso.

"Never too good," Matsumoto agreed as hand in hand they stepped through the Gate and to the snow blanketed Soul Society.

As snow blanketed the ground of Soul Society and the wind picked up, Rukia didn't know what to think, Part of her screamed to go and fight, to help them. She was a Vice Captain, she was a more than competent opponent, she had enough of a reason to fight. But she knew she could not, even if she wanted too she was not going to risk the life inside of her. Even if she wasn't showing and Wonderwice _didn't_ know, there was always a risk she would fall or something would happen to the baby. She couldn't do that. She may have been scared out of her wits at the prospect of raising a child but this was _their_ child even if she was furious at her husband at the moment.

"Rukia."

Rukia turned her head to see her brother standing there. His scarf and _kenseikan_ were not on him. She had a horrible feeling they were in her room. He had done this once before when he went to Las Noches with the former Espada, when the completion of the mission was the only concern. He had named her the interim head of the Kuchiki Clan in his absence and the 29th Head should he not return. If he was not wearing them now that could only mean that he knew this battle was serious. Surging to her feet, Rukia pulled her brother into a tight embrace knowing this fight was more suicidal than any other he had fought before. Byakuya wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly against his chest.

"Be careful," she said, trying to inject sternness into her tone, "I don't want my child to grow up without her Uncle Byakuya to spoil her rotten," his eyes softened as he offered her a small smile, "and don't kill Ichigo either," she added as an afterthought. Grudgingly he nodded in agreement.

"Captain," he turned to see Renji standing there, "its time."

"Thank you," Byakuya spoke, gently withdrawing from Rukia's embrace.

"You two be careful!" Rukia called. They nodded and walked out. Rukia lowered her head, wrapping her arms around herself, "don't worry," she said, "your uncles will be back soon and with any luck they'll have your crazy father with them."

Byakuya and Renji made their way to where the Captains were gathering. It seemed that they were among the last to arrive despite the fact that Byakuya was one of the faster of the Captains. For some reason he could not truly explain his eyes found Halibel in the crowd. The dark brown of her robe was visible as the wind stirred all their cloaks. She was observant, observant enough that the only reason she was not looking at him was because she chose not too. Though his face did not show it Byakuya was less than thrilled that she would not look at him. He knew that being distracted was the greatest downfall for any warrior. Forcing his eyes to look somewhere else he focused instead on the landscape around him, he sought the skies for any sign of Wonderwice's approach.

He missed Halibel's eyes dart over to him. But Byakuya was searching for any indication. Halibel shook her head. She thought she felt eyes on her and part of her hoped it was him--but she had ignored it. Not that she _wanted_ him to look at her necessarily. Halibel shook herself. He was not letting what happened in the graveyard affect him and neither should she. No more than it already had anyway. Her own eyes scanned around looking for any sign of their newest adversary. The Captains haori on her shoulders had never felt so heavy. Heavy with responsibility, heavy with what it meant to be standing on _this_ side of the line. She felt proud of the weight on her shoulders. She felt proud to be a Shinigami.

Nearby Nel stood next to her Captain, her eyes darting around, Gamuza grasped tightly in her hands.

"Nel, stop worrying," Hitsugaya said. Nel whipped her head to face her Captain, her eyes wide, "I'll be fine."

"I-I wasn't worried," she said looking at the ground and pouting as he smiled faintly at the lie.

"I've fought Hyourinmaru before," he offered. Her head flew up as she looked at him, "It's a long story but I did."

"Did you win?" she demanded.

"I'm here aren't I?" he said with a smile.

"But--" she shook her head, "but--"

"I thought you had more faith in me, Nel."

"Of course I do!" Nel cried, "but--" she looked at the sky.

"But?" he prodded.

"But I'm you're Vice Captain! I'm supposed to worry!" she cried looking at him.

Behind Hinamori Grimmjow tried to keep his eyes on the battle but it was hard. Though he knew he shouldn't be, he was worried about Soifon. She was standing nearby, as proud and ready as ever. if there was one thing she was truly good at it was kicking ass. Any ass. Even, he grudgingly had to admit, his. Even in the Winter War the only thing she lost besides a Lieutenant was a braid. That was it. Now facing just as impossible odds she had not even drawn her sword. She stood their proud and ready, her haori flapping in the wind. She didn't seem concerned by the fact they just had sex on Ulquiorra's desk, nor the fact that her Lieutenant seemed far more concerned with his girlfriend than with watching her back. Grimmjow felt his fist clench, if she got hurt because Ulquiorra was off making goo goo eyes at Orihime--

"Calm down," Hinamori's voice was soft and assured as she surveyed the earth, "our concern may be for the ones we love but the best thing we can do for them is to fight."

"I know but--" he began.

"No buts," she cut him off, "though you may not want to admit it we are about to face an enemy greater than any we have before," she drew Tobiume, "we are not simply fighting Wonderwice, we are fighting our friends."

Grimmjow looked down at his own sword, aware of Pantera's presence. Though furious and feral as any wild animal Pantera was a part of him. The thought of loosing him was as unfathomable to Grimmjow as loosing his own soul. He knew the only reason that Ukitake, Hitsugaya and Shunsui were alive was because of Hinamori and her skill with Kido. She was holding the key to all their connections to their Zanpaktos. Without her they would be dead, or worse, they would be without a piece of their souls. Of course Ichigo was not there. Only he was. Soifon could take care of himself and even if he wished to be by her side he knew that his duty was to aide his Captain.

"I'll say this for the fucker," he said thinking of the Zanpakutos he had, "He's got taste."

Hinamori smiled at that. Like the rest of them she did not want to use Tobiume's shikai immediately. She had sparred against Hitsugaya but fighting against Hyourinmaru would be a completely different task. As if listening to her musing the winds suddenly began to pick up as the snow that was on the ground whipped up in a flurry. Hinamori lowered her gaze, feeling the wind whistle through her hair. Focusing her energy on her Spiritual Pressure she felt for the approaching enemy.

Or, as she found, enemies.

Like nightmares they came out of the mists. Faceless Hollows, Arrancars, all their eyes gleaming with the same deadly look. Sun Sun remembered the words carved on the beam in her quarters. _Traitor_. To them she was a traitor. Though she felt anger at them she was far more proud of being called such. She was a traitor to them. She had killed Hollows, she had chosen Halibel over Aizen, she was glad to be a traitor. She was proud of it because traitor to them meant that she was a Shinigami. She drew her own blade with a steady hand.

"Patience," Halibel said, her own blade still sheathed.

"Are you going to be okay in the wind?" Hisagi asked looking down at her.

"As fine as you," she replied drawing her blade back. They kept approaching, "Captain--"

"Go into your Shikais now," she ordered.

"Reap, Kazeshini," Hisagi ordered, his blade immediately separating into its dual form.

"Strangle to death, Anaconda," Sun Sun ordered, her blade lengthening until she held a long whip in her hand, the edge capped with a deadly iron blade.

She looked over at Halibel. Sensing her request Halibel gave a nod. With a flick of her wrist, Sun Sun sent her whip streaking out, the blade leaving a long diagonal slash across one of the Arrancar's chests deadly enough for him to disintegrate. The rest turned to face her, their eyes glinting. Sun Sun did not just meet their gaze, she drew her wrist back and let Anaconda fly, destroying any foolish enough to challenge her.

The two armies met with a clash of steel and flesh. Blades drew blood from nameless, faceless enemies. Somewhere to the back Wonderwice watched with a glimmer in his eye, his hand touching the pommel of the blade he carried. He had done this, he had finished Lord Aizen's work, the thing that Tousen sacrificed himself for. The world would run red with blood, blood that would cleanse it. And then once it was finished, once the blood had dried, he would stand as King. Those miserable fools would pay for what they had done. The thought alone brought an almost maniacal grin to his face, at least until there was the appearance of an all too familiar Spiritual Pressure. Wonderwice's eyes widened as his gaze locked on a familiar ruby eyed figure who had just appeared on the battlefield.

"We picked a bad time to come back!" Matsumoto called over her shoulder at Gin.

"Bastards just won't quit," Gin said with a shake of his head as Shinso cut a wide arc through three of them.

Matsumoto had to laugh at that as Haineko danced between her fingers. It had been a while and she was a bit out of practice but none of these were even at Fraccion level. Gin sliced through more of the Arrancar, his eyes scanning the battlefield. If what they said was true then Hinamori was holding they key to a lot of Spiritual Pressure and Hitsugaya was un-armed.

"Blast! Tobiume!" he heard a familiar shout and turned just in time to see an Arrancar nearby vanish in a bright pink fireball, "Gin!" Hinamori raced over to him, "you're alright?" he nodded, "Where is sh--Rangiku!" the petite Captain streaked over to the taller woman and threw her arms around her. Despite the battle Matsumoto hugged her back tightly.

Gin shook his head. Spending so much time with her was like a blast from the past, he had almost forgotten how different things were now between him and the rest of Soul Society. Pink blades streaked past him and he suddenly found himself back to back with Byakuya Kuchiki.

"Impeccable timing," the Kuchiki Head told him icily.

"You know that's my specialty," Gin said with a grin before black hair hit him in the face, "you should do something with your fucking hair before fighting," he said glaring

"I have been fighting with my hair like this for a long time," Byakuya said cooly, "perhaps you should open your eyes more?"

"So how much does Halibel want me dead?" Gin asked glancing over at him. Byakuya's eyes widened in surprise, "I'll take that as a lot," he sighed, "better go apologize. I don't want a repeat of the Nnoitra incident."

Byakuya watched him go, wondering what the strange feeling curling inside him could be.

Soifon was actually quite happy that there was a battle going on. It was far easier to focus just on the fighting. Ducking under one Arrancar's wide swing she hooked her foot under his leg and knocked his balance off. She drew her leg back momentarily before extending it with rapid force, burying it in his stomach with enough power to send him tumbling backwards. Bringing her down up she caught the next Arrancar's downward chop with a quick block with her outer forearm on his wrist, using their closeness and her smaller size to close the distance between them before landing a series of rapid kicks to his ribs, neck and finally sternum. The next one she saw out of the corner of her eye. Spinning around she caught the heel of her foot against his jaw, knocking it sideways. Raising her foot above her head she brought it down, cracking his jaw off.

"Soifon!" she heard Yoruichi call to her. Knowing that her lack of _Shunko_ was probably confusing her former mentor, Soifon sighed and activated the ability, bursting into a dazzling display of Kido energy.

The Arrancar went down much easier now but without the challenge she was still frustrated. The problem, in her opinion with _Shunko_, was that there was no actual contact. The opponent was obliterated before skin was touched. Soifon always liked knowing her blows hit. She viewed each red knuckle, each bruise as evidence she had been in a fight and she had won. Soifon did not loose, not to purple haired former mentors, not to nameless, faceless Hollows and especially not to blue haired idiots who couldn't keep their damn mouths shut. Snarling she threw out a fist, de-powering her _Shunko_ long enough to sink her knuckles into the Arrancar's stomach before powering it up again and blowing him back to the reincarnation cycle.

Orihime was back with the Fourth Division. Unohana had commanded them to hold off until there were wounded. Orihime had placed a shield in front of them so that no stray attacks injured them. Her eyes scanned the battlefield as she caught sight of her friends fighting. She wanted to join them but she knew that battles were not her strong suite and considering the type of weapon they were up against her strength would be necessary later on in the battle. But still she could not help but worry as she watched them fight. It was not that their opponents were terribly strong, it was just there were so many of them. She was far more worried that this battle would wear them out and by the time the real battle started they would be exhausted.

Nemu struck out and quickly broke through one of the armor plates the Arrancar she was fighting was wearing. Another quick backwards strike had the ground painted red with his blood. Nemu had long ago mastered the art of fighting with her body and thinking with her mind about something else. She had killed countless Hollows before and these were no different. Her mind was not on the battle nor on anticipating the enemies next movements. Her eyes were not scanning for her next target. She was scanning for something caramel colored, something neither of his parents seemed to think would be there.

But despite the heavy guard on him Nemu had no doubt that Kohaku would be in the battle. Though she rarely disagreed with her Captain, this was one of those rare occasions. Protective or no, Urahara had to be an idiot not to known that Kohaku was going to be there. Of course Urahara was not an idiot and Nemu knew he had some kind of contingency plan to keep Kohaku in the Shihouin Manor. But Kohaku was going to be out and he was going to join the battle.

A blast of gold light to her right confirmed that statement. Nemu took off.

"Kohaku!" Yoruichi turned with her eyes wide as her son stood in a crater created by his Zanpakuto's blast, "Kisuke!" she shouted looking for her husband. Benihime screamed by her, destroying three Hollows in one go

Urahara heard his wife shout to him and turned to see a massive crater that could only have come from Kohaku's still largely unstable Spiritual Pressure. Turning his head he looked for Nemu. His Lieutenant was already streaking towards the crater, knocking Hollows right and left.

"Nemu's got him!" he called back. Yoruichi appeared by him instantly, "What?" he asked.

"Contingency plan?" she arched an eyebrow. "What contingency plan?"

"It was a good idea!" he argued, "I just forgot he inherited my genius."

"That sneaking out of things is all mine," she said fighting back three Hollows deftly.

"But that's mine," he said pointing at Kohaku's bright grin which he flashed in the face of Nemu's anger, "that charming--"

"Kisuke, focus!"

As he watched the Shinigami slowly destroy the forces he had sent, Wonderwice smirked. That was what he had planned. Exhausting themselves when they were about to fight the strongest Shinigami of Soul Society. He did not know if it would work but it seemed to be happening just fine. Standing up he kept his hand on the pommel of the blade and walked forward to where the masked Arrancar were waiting. He held back sending the more powerful of them, he wanted the Shinigami to have some false hope. It would be far more satisfying when he ripped it away.

"Destroy them," he ordered turning around to walk back to his perch, "_slowly_," he added.

"Oo, that's never a good idea."

Wonderwice's eyes widened as he turned around to see a familiar green-haired former Lieutenant who beamed and waved at him.

"You should always destroy people fast," she said, her eyes wide and falsely innocent, "because if you do it slowly, you never know when they're gonna survive and come back to kick your ass." Her happy smile widened.

Before his horrified eyes appeared Ichigo, Ishida, Hiyori, Kensei and Shinji. Wonderwice saw red and the ground seemed to tremble as he drew the sword that could, and would, kill them all. None of them looked scared. If anything they looked almost, well, almost amused. Especially Shinji, whose grin was just as infuriating as Gin Ichimaru's.

"What's so funny?" Wonderwice demanded.

"Nothing, 'cept I've been kicking Jushiro and Shunsui's ass since long before yer knew what a Zanpakto _was_," he said, shrugging, "I didn't lose when they were holding the swords and I ain't gonna lose when its someone who can't fight half as well as them."

"Draw your sword," Wonderwice hissed.

"Eh, I don't think I'll be needing it," Shinji said with a careless shrug. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hiyori fight down a smile, "You just gonna stand there or you gonna swing that thing, I feel kinda bad hitting someone for no reason."

"You are a dead man, Hirako," Wonderwice spat.

"Well _duh_," Shinji said, "of course I'm already dead, idiot."

"Well, then I suggest you prepare yourself for the reincarnation cycle," Wonderwice snarled.

"How about no?" Shinji said with a grin before Wonderwice charge forward with a roar.

This time the earth did not just tremble, it shook and before their stunned eyes, it cracked open, threatening to swallow them all. The Shinigami jumped free of the crater but a lot of the Hollows were swallowed alive. Shinji's eyes narrowed before he drew his blade.

With a clash of metal the two met in a duel that shook the heavens.

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IMPORTANT PLEASE READ**

**Right readers, its news time! **

**First off, this is going to be one big story, that's what you all wanted so fasten your seat belts.**

**Second, starting in a week or so--a few chapters really--this story along with ALL others is going on hiatus for a month. Those who've been with me since Silent Force know that that story started while I was trekking in Europe with access to internet via cafe's and such. Unfortunately now I'm off to Africa to hit up my seventh continent (yes, I've been to the sliver of land in Antarctica) and will not be near the internet for much of my trip.**

**I'll let you know when the hiatus begins of course and I will to take this to the point where I was considering breaking it into two stories but decided not to. Or you all voted not to.**


	22. Mirror

**Big thanks to **VioTanequil **for being an awesome beta.**

_Flashbacks are italic_

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In battles, there were always moments that stuck out and moments that blended together. It was rather like a symphony. Melodious and almost soft one moment and then, like a crescendo, the music would rise and one would be swept away. Swords would clash like drums, movements would flow like harmonies, but in the center of it all, there had to be something that tied the notes together. There had to be a purpose for the symphony, a purpose for the duel.

The problem was that Shinji was failing to see what his purpose was.

Each blow of the sword sent tremors racing up his arm. He could release his Zanpakuto and end this with very little problem but he knew if he did that Wonderwice would take control of his Zanpakuto and the last thing Shinji wanted to do was fight himself. Again. He had already tried a cero against Wonderwice but nothing had happened. He had deflected it as if it was nothing. Shinji knew he was running out of options fast.

_The classroom was a sterile place. Neat rows of desks filled with neat cookie cutter students. Blue and red and white. Most the idiots were cast offs from the Noble families sending their children to the Academy for stupid Noble reasons he didn't understand. No-one was at the desk on either side of him but he didn't care. if they wanted to be Noble idiots then they could be, he didn't want to be forced to sit next to someone stuck up anyway._

_"Excuse me? Is someone sitting here?" Shinji looked up to see a young girl with eyes that examined him almost fearfully. Her long black hair was plaited with in a braid tied with a bright ribbon that matched the color of her robe that hung over her shoulder._

_"No," he said cautiously._

_"Is it okay if I--"_

_"Sure," he shrugged. Her lips curved into a faint smile as she sat down. She seemed so hesitant and almost fearful--so innocent, he felt the strangest desire to protect her or, at the very least be nice to her, "Shinji Hirako," he said._

_"I'm Retsu Unohana," she said with a smile._

Shinji hit the ground and cast his eyes around, looking for something to do. There had to be a way to fight him before him and Soul Society were seriously damaged goods. He looked around at the destroyed ground around him. It seemed every time that Wonderwice swung the sword the main amount of the damage came from what happened _around _him rather than from the blade itself. Shinji supposed that had to do with the elements he was wielding.

But what would happen if he was unable to be in contact with them?

"Bakudo 37! _Tsuriboshi!_ Bakudo 39! _Enkosen!_" the two Kido's worked seamlessly together, blocking him from any of the elements that he could use. If anything it bought him a few precious moments to think.

_"Kyouraku, Hirako, Ukitake, you three work together."_

_Shinji narrowed his eyes at the two he was supposed to work with. They were both popular Nobles that he didn't like very well on that principal alone. Jushiro seemed a bit pale while Shunsui seemed a bit like he didn't care what happened either way. The three of them grabbed their practice blades._

_"Who wants to go first?" Jushiro asked._

_"You don't look so good," Shunsui said, "I'll go first," Jushiro quickly nodded and sat down a bit heavily, "its okay, he's good at giving pointers."_

_"What makes you think _I _need them?" Shinji asked arching an eyebrow._

_"Oh you'll need 'em alright," Shunsui said, "I don't loose duels."_

_"Don't worry," Shinji said with a grin, "I'm sure your friend can give you pointers on that."_

_What started out as a fair sparring match dissolved into an all out war for blood, dominance and something just stupidly masculine. Swords, fists, Shinji was pretty sure teeth were used at one point as well. As it stood Shinji could see out of one eye and was pretty positive that his left hand was going to be good for nothing except waving for the next week or so. Shunsui's lip was split, his right hand was pretty much useless and his left leg was having trouble supporting his weight. Shinji swung his fist and added black eye to Shunsui's injury list right before his back hit the ground with a hard whack._

_"What the hell is going on?!" the two paused to see their infuriated instructor standing there, "I leave you alone for five minuets and this is what happens?! "_

_Before the instructor could continue to reprimand them, Shinji was on his feet and he tackled Shunsui to the ground where the two continued to fight._

_"Enough!" the two were thrown against opposite walls by invisible hands, "I suggest you two consider your next actions _very_ carefu--"_

_Suddenly Jushiro double over, coughing violently. All eyes swung to him as he hacked into his hand. Before their shocked eyes red streamed from his fingers and hit the ground in bright red patches._

_"Jushiro!"_

Wonderwice broke free of the Kido with a roar. Only instead of charging at Shinji again he raced towards Hiyori, power building as the world around him was destroyed. The momentum built behind the blade as he raced for the former Lieutenant. Hiyori waited for him and at the last moment, instead of vanishing she vaulted clear over his head. With difficulty Wonderwice was able to turn the arc of destruction towards her.

"Hiyori!"

Hiyori dodged the earth, the swings, everything with speed that made even Shinji impressed. He had almost forgotten what she was capable of. Before their shocked eyes she landed a solid punch to Wonderwice's face and leapt free before the destruction could take her in its web. She was fast and nimble but the weapon she was up against was nothing short of legendary and before Shinji's horrified eyes the ground opened right where she was about to land.

_He would never understand how it happened but between the massive amount of detention he and Shunsui received as well as the fact that Ukitake was pretty much _always_ there, the three of them became friends._

_"Hey," Shunsui elbowed him, "I think Jushiro's got a crush."_

_"On _who_?" he demanded. Shunsui gave a nod in the direction of none other than Retsu, "seriously? But--" he looked over at Jushiro who was flirting with another girl. In front of his stunned eyes Jushiro's darted between Retsu and the two of them, "I see."_

_"He isn't gonna do anything because he thinks that she likes you."_

_"Retsu?" he raised an eyebrow, "we're friends," he frowned, realizing that Jushiro's poor mind would use that as an excuse. He had become very self conscious in the wake of his illness, constantly swiping his hand over his whitening hair, "oh," he grinned, "okay Noble, I'll show you how the real world handles this."_

_Shunsui grinned. His Nobility and Shinji's lack thereof had become a standing joke between the two of them. Shinji walked over to Retsu and in front of the whole class gave a dramatic bow. Silence fell and Shunsui watched Jushiro's features be taken over with apprehension at what was to come. No girl ever said no to Shinji Hirako._

_"Retsu Unohana, my first love," he said dramatically, "will you do the honor of going out with me?"_

_"No."_

_Hope flared in Jushiro's eyes as a collective gasp went up around them._

_"But Retsu," he wined._

_"Don't 'Retsu' me," she said, though the humor was still in her eyes, "I'm sure you'll have many other 'First Loves' Shinji," with her head held high she walked off. The room erupted into girlish squeals._

_"I'll be your First Love!!"_

_"No, me!"_

_"Me!"_

_"Shiiiinji!!"_

_Shunsui just laughed._

"Sing! Benihime!"

Instead of falling into the crater Hiyori landed on a very familiar Blood Mist shield that acted rather like a trampoline, sending her up in the air back the way she had come from. She managed to flip her body backwards and skid to a halt on the upturned earth.

"How about a 'thank you'?" Benihime demanded.

Oddly enough the only person that Benihime truly got along with was Hiyori Sarugaki. Maybe it was their mutual love of all things red or perhaps because they both took great delight in beating the men in their lives but for whatever reason his Zanpakuto Spirit had willingly appeared to Hiyori in a way that she never had for him, his son or Yoruichi.

"Shut up. Do you have any idea how to fight this thing?"

"Why don't you just go and try to hit him again?" the spirit demanded glaring at her.

Hiyori opened her mouth to snap at her and then closed it, her eyes scanning Wonderwice's movements. Benihime had a point. The power of his Zanpakuto seemed to be based on building up momentum more than anything else. There were moments when his chest was left open. He was not a good fighter, not in his own right. Someone had this all planned out obviously but the person expected to pull it off was obviously insane. He was like a magician with his smoke and mirrors. When it came down to it, he was just another stupid Hollow that they had to kill.

Hiyori dove forward, dodging rubble and things that fell around.

"Damn it! I thought I told you to stay back!" Shinji snarled when she darted past him.

"When'd I ever listen to you dumbass?!"

_"Come on! It wasn't _that_ bad."_

_"This Academy is new enough that the last thing we need are the two of you humiliating us."_

_The two listened to him drone on and on about propriety and what was right and wrong. It didn't help that they had absolutely crippling hangovers. Retsu and her wonderful powers were tucked safely away with Jushiro while the two of them were forced to suffer a lecture in a brightly lit office. As Yamamoto told them, it was their own fault for getting so absolutely hammered the night before graduation and instead of facing it hungover, they kept drinking and faced it, well, drunk. Somewhere between Shunsui almost being sick on the woman handing diplomas out and him announcing her as his First Love--much to the dismay of the gathered audience's women--he and Shunsui had become the first graduates._

_And humiliated the Shinigami Academy completely, something Yamamoto would not be likely to forget._

_"Shunsui, go," he said. Shunsui clapped him on his shoulder and exited, "Hirako," Yamamoto looked at him, "do you know why I selected you to be a student here?"_

_"No, but I bet you're gonna tell me," he said with a flash of his signature grin._

_"You are not the strongest Shinigami I've ever met, nor do you have the potential to be. You're hot headed and you have a talent for getting yourself into alarmingly large amounts of trouble."_

_"I sure as hell wouldn't have let me in," he said._

_"Yes and when I looked at your file I almost said no. Said no with the same kind of disdain as everyone who said no to me when I tried to start this Academy," he looked at Shinji, "you could be a great leader, Shinji Hirako."_

_"And here I was thinkin' I was so horrible."_

_"I said _could_," Yamamoto said, "and not for any noble reason like you want to protect people," he looked at Shinji, "you see people as tools, Shinji. You see their strengths, their weaknesses but most importantly you see how they can be used. Even if you are never the strongest Shinigami you will win because you alone will see how that Shinigami can be used._

Hiyori landed and slid backwards, shifting her body so she stopped next to Kensei.

"Shinji!" she shouted over to get his attention.

_"_Bakudo 26! _Kyakko_!" he shouted bending the light in front of his opponent. It was a cheap trick but it distracted him enough so Shinji could jump back to them, "make it quick."

"We can't hit the sword," she said, "we have to try to hit him," she explained, "that thing uses momentum. It has to have a path and it has to stay on it. He can't block very well but we can't get close," she looked at the three of them, "we have to work together."

"I can get you close," Ichigo broke in.

"No way," Kensei said, "the last thing we need is for Zangetsu to get involved in this--"

"No," Shinji looked at Ichigo, "do not let him hit you. You can piss him off better than anyone here."

"That's what I do best," he said with a grin jumping out, "Hey! Dipshit! Over here!"

_"Obviously Retsu's gonna get one," Jushiro said._

_'Yeah but that leaves three other Divisions up for formal Captainship," Shunsui pointed out, "one of 'em could be yours Mr. play-by-the-rules."_

_"I do _not_," Jushiro muttered flushing._

_"So they name you Captain yet?" Shinji asked coming up to Jushiro and Shunsui._

_"Where were you?" Jushiro asked, "Yamamoto's going to be pissed off."_

_"Well what Yamamoto don't know can't hurt him rig--"_

_"Shinji."_

_Shinji winced._

_"Yamamoto," he turned and greeted his mentor._

_"You look horrible," Yamamoto told him, his eyes surveying his former student, "Apparently my orders about showing here looking _presentable_ were ignored."_

_"As all the non life or death ones are," Shinji said with a good natured grin before a white cloak hit him square in the face, "huh?" he yanked it down, "what the hell was--" he stopped realizing he held a white garment in his hand, "huh?!" he looked at Yamamoto._

_"Surprised?" the older man smiled, "why?"_

_"Because--because I'm not supposed to be a Captain. You're always reprimanding me!"_

_"Don't be so sensitive, I'm simply pushing you to do your best," Yamamoto said._

_Shinji looked to see Shunsui, Retsu and Jushiro also holding similar haori's._

_"I made the sleeves long so if you indulge in that habit of flipping off people you do not like, you have a chance of not offending your division," he said glancing at them, "go change and come back here."_

_The four of them nodded and went off to change only to discover that stuck in the sleeve of each of their robes was a packet of tea that Yamamoto loved._

As Ichigo hollered insults at Wonderwice, Shinji readied his sword. It was odd really, how time seemed to almost slow down. Looking at the Shinigami fighting for their home, at the Vizards fighting for the lives outside of the place they had once called him, Shinji slowly began to realize what he was fighting for. He wasn't fighting for Yamamoto's version of Soul Society, the one where fools blinded by power made the decisions without a care to reason. He was fighting for the Soul Society that should have been, the Soul Society that had been lost in the illusions left from Aizen Sousuke.

Wonderwice didn't even see him coming.

Didn't even feel him as he went back to back with him and slammed his Zanpakuto through his back until the blood soaked blade stuck out of his chest.

Wonderwice spat blood, turning his head to see Shinji out of the corner of his eye.

"This isn't over," the Espada spat, blood trickling from his lips.

"Bring it," Shinji challenged, ripping his sword free. Before Wonderwice could do anything he spun around, decapitating him.

The reaction was instant as the sword he held shattered. Orihime's reaction was instant as she summoned the _Shun Shun Rikka_. Nearby, Ulquiorra felt his heart stop. The last time she used all six of them together she had wound up in a coma for months. Though that had been because of the rubble that fell on her he associated that power with that time in his life. The fairies streaked out and locked around the fragments of the sword, glowing a bright gold. Orihime hurried over and pressed her fingertips to the wide circle, her eyes glowing with the light of her fairies.

Before their shocked eyes the empty space slowly filled in with the sight of the familiar Zanpakutos.

"Hinamori, hurry," she said.

"Right!" the Fifth Division Captain quickly removed the Kido she had used to keep Ukitake, Shunsui and Hitsugaya alive without damaging their connection. With the removal of the Kido, Orihime gently withdrew the shield as the Captains came forward and took their Zanpakutos back. Even Yoruichi whose connection to her blade as so foggy she did not need the blocker, "did it--" Hinamori bit her lip, her eyes darting between them. After a moment, the three of them opened their eyes and nodded. Hinamori breathed a sigh of relief, "oh thank goodness."

"Captain!" Hitsugaya suddenly found him crushed against a very familiar chest.

"Matsumoto!!" he hollered, wondering how the hell she could still smother him when he was so much taller.

"Hold on," Renji looked at Gin, "he's got Matsumoto _and_ Neliel as his Vice Captains?"

"Good thing he's engaged," Gin said.

Renji nodded as Nel threw herself into the happy reunion.

The ground lurched violently suddenly, throwing them all off balance. Gin looked around, his eyes scanning for whatever was causing it. Finding nothing he looked upwards at the heavens.

Before his shocked eyes the lingering storm clouds blew away, revealing the clear skies they were hiding. But instead of being blue, the sky was gold.

Gin's eyes widened as gold light slammed into him with the force of a truck and overwhelmed his senses, wiping the world around him blissfully blank.

* * *

**Okay we are charging towards hiatus! I'm bringing this story to its mid-point and then its off. Of course that's debatable since the folks over at "Toro Nagashi" got me to give them one more chapter. So standby for the next update!**

**You all are definitely getting one more chapter though.**


	23. Star

**Big, massive thanks to **VioTanequil** for once again being the most awesome and incredible Beta-reader on the planet**

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Though he could not say how he knew, Gin knew he was not standing up. The closest he could come to was that he was floating. Everything was warm and white and shockingly comforting. He felt as though he did not have a care in the world except to stay wrapped in the cocoon.

"You always were a fair amount of trouble," a voice whispered around him, "Gin Ichimaru."

Whoever was speaking remained invisible to his eyes, their voice seeming to come from the very air around him.

"I have never met someone quite so talented at killing," the voice continued, "even a as a child you never hesitated to take life. The only time you were ever truly pathetic was when you were tamed. Tamed by that fool of a man, tamed by your own unbearable grief. Some beasts are not meant to be tamed."

"You just gonna insult me?" he asked, fighting past the waves of desire to just be lazy.

"No," there was the barest caress along his cheek, "you should not be tamed, Gin. You should be able to, able to run free."

"How'd you suggest I do that?" he asked with a raise of his eyebrow.

"Join me," the pressure was on his shoulders, warmth spreading down his back as though warmth spread across his back as though he was wearing a haori, "be what you were always meant to be."

"Who are you?"

"Not who am I, who are _we_," came the reply.

"I lost my taste for game a long time ago," he said.

"Fair enough," came the reply, the voice holding a note of amused practicality before flowing seamlessly back to its gentle whisper, "fair enough. I suppose. Become a member of the Royal Guard."

Gin arched an eyebrow, for a moment he thought they were joking but the voice gave no indication of such a thing.

"Be what you were always meant to be."

Gin swallowed. Be a member of the Royal Guard. It was tempting offer. Power--he would rise higher than anyone in the past two hundred years. There was a time, a time when even if Aizen had told him no he would have said yes. But that time was over and with it, his rampant desire for power. He liked being a Captain, especially since even after fifty years Kira was so exuberant that he was there that the most Gin did in terms of paperwork was sign his name. He enjoyed sparring matches with Hitsugaya, even if the so-called Ice Dragon usually left one or both his arms numb. Hell he liked spending time with Byakuya since they were no longer in the strange sort of competition they had been in for most of their lives. Even if Ran was back now Gin knew he was in debt to the Kuchiki for his guidance during the time when her death had repeatedly broken him.

Gin's body had been as broken as his heart and between the Kuchiki siblings, Hitsugaya and Hinamori if he ever saw anything pink or cold his heart fairly stopped in his chest. But even if Hitsugaya enjoyed their matches and Hinamori went too easy sometimes it was Byakuya who sparred with him the most. Endless hours of whirling pink blades forcing him to be very _very_ creative with Shinso. When he had, in a fit of grief induced rage, told Byakuya he didn't need his pity the Head of the Kuchiki clan had simply exposed the skin still baring the pink scar from when Gin had run him through and told him that pity was given with tissues, not with a blade.

Gin had almost forgotten that he stabbed him, clearly Byakuya had not.

_Be what you were always meant to be_

"I am," he said and felt the warmth retreat but he didn't really care, "I am what I was meant to be," he shrugged, "I'm good here."

"You always were one for wrong choices," the voice replied almost sadly.

"Yeah. I also happen to dislike taking orders."

Instead of floating he suddenly found himself dropped onto the ground with enough force to send shocks up his legs. Soul Society was still bathed in the odd golden glow the center of which glowed almost too bright to see. From his quick glance around Gin picked out almost everyone who had been there. Everyone except the three oldest Captains, the four Vizards and the six former Arrancar. Worry curled through him. If they were inside the light then nothing good could come of it.

"Now then," a voice echoed around those gathered nearest to the glow, "what are _Arrancar_ doing in Soul Society?" before protests could be heard, the strange voice chuckled, "oh I see, you are not Arrancar. Not on the outside anyway. You've been, what's the term?" there was a pause as though something was being considered, "Shinigamified. A lovely sentiment. But the truth remains that you are _not_ Shinigami. Unable to let go of your past lives, even if you have been released from the madness of your hate you are still fundamentally different from the Shinigami."

The attention was directed elsewhere.

"As for you four," somehow the Vizards knew eyes were on them, "you four are needed. It is clear you've been content to run, to live a life free of your duty to Soul Society. But upon becoming members of the Thirteen Court Protection Squads you swore oaths of loyalty and service. You are still bound by those," pain blinded the four of them immediately before it vanished, along with it, any sense of their Hollow Powers, "return to Soul Society and be grateful I have not thrown you into the reincarnation cycle for your disloyalty."

Hiyori, Kensei and Mashiro hit the ground alongside Gin.

"Now then," attention went to the four of them, "the four oldest."

Shinji, still in a good deal of pain felt his stomach drop. This was why he didn't want to come back. He _knew_ something like this was going to happen. Inside his sleeve he crossed his fingers tightly and begged whatever God was listening 'don't make it me, please don't make it me.'

"The world seems short its healers these days. Especially ones like you," Unohana bowed her head, "unfortunately healers are necessary after the battle, not before it," she felt someone brush the back of her neck before she too hit the ground albeit far more gently.

"Your illness has crippled you," Ukitake nodded, knowing the words to be true, "still you have shown remarkable strength in the face of an enemy who was immune to your blades," he felt a touch, almost as if someone laid a hand on his lips before he landed as well on the ground.

"And now to the last of you," attention turned to Shinji and Shunsui, "you two were once like brothers but I doubt there would be love lost between you now," there was a low chuckle, "both of you seem to enjoy holding yourselves back, content to dedicate your time to pleasure instead of productivity."

Both men felt stinging on the back of their heads as though someone had smacked them.

"Much has been lost in the empty air that should have whistled with your blades."

Given recent events both men felt that was a bit harsh. Both also knew better than to talk back to the voice connected with the King.

"But I digress. Much has been gained by you two as well, both in blade and heart," there was a touch to both of them, an invisible hand laid on their shoulders, "but one of you cared for others, even when he should have run. And when he had no reason to run, he did. Well," the voice became almost amused, "if you run this time, Hirako, the consequences will not just be for you."

Shinji's stomach dropped as he somehow knew Shunsui was no longer there.

"I--"

"This is not about you. This is about what Soul Society needs. I did not sacrifice everything to see the world I created fall into ruin in the wake of a crazed man."

"I'm crazy."

"You're the good kind of crazy," the heat was there, spreading over his shoulders down to his wrists and almost to his ankles, "purple would be ill suited to you," the voice said almost thoughtfully, "now listen closely."

In the coming weeks it would be hard to say how long they stood in the glow of the light while Shinji and the former Arrancar remained. All those who were gathered knew was the twisting fear inside their stomachs over the fact that their friends, their lovers, they were all inside there with something that obviously not thrilled at their presence. All they knew was the fear of loosing those who they had come to consider friends, come to consider family.

The light flared and out stepped Shinji. He looked a bit less than enthusiastic at the prospect of his new role but the billowing white, red lined haori he wore clearly left him no options. Like the rest of them he turned his head to watch the gold light continue to flare before it vanished, leaving in its wake nothing except the torn up earth.

Standing with his mom, Kohaku held his own blade in one hand and Oscar's in the other. He couldn't feel the Spirit, but the blade was still there. He didn't know what that meant, just that the thought of his best friend being gone made his eyes sting.

"Dude, you better not get tears on my Zanpakuto."

Kohaku's eyes widened as he turned around to see Oscar standing there wearing the black robes of a Shinigami.

"How--you're supposed to be dead!"

"I am," Oscar said rolling his eyes.

"But how do you remember?"

"I don't know," Oscar said with a shrug, "some chick told me I had to remember who I was."

"Freaky."

"Definitely."

Everyone was looking at Shinji.

"Where the hell did they go?" Gin demanded, voicing the question no-one else could say.

_And now for you six. You have shown remarkable strength, choosing instead of obeying. Soul Society is in your debt, something I am sure you are all aware of. I should throw you out, of course, since despite some creative science you are still all, shall we say, incomplete? But I am not heartless. I know strength such as yours is rare and not something to be thrown away easily._

_So I will give you a chance._

_Time is circular. Time that is incomplete, time with unresolved issues. Time such as yours. The events leading to your deaths are soon to be repeated. If you all can find it in yourselves to finish your story, to guide the other you to safety, you will be allowed to return with your memories in tact. Of course initially you will be the dormant soul, the one who does not have control and does not remember. But when it is time for your deaths, you will have a moment to take control. If you can and if you can finally see your story past its end, you may return to home._

_If not, you will die. Your memories will be lost and you will either become nameless Hollows or simply go to Soul Society but not as you are._

_I have allowed Kurosaki and the others to keep their memories both because of the debt owed to them by Soul Society and the love that is held for them by someone close to me. However I will not allow that to occur for you._ _So I suggest you use this chance wisely._

"Well?" Renji prodded.

"They've been," Shinji shook his head, "they've been reincarnated to finish their story. They're in the transient world and unless they're able to save their other selves, they can't come home."

* * *

**And we are on hiatus! **

**The Hollows have to face their pasts and bring their new selves safety through the events surrounding their deaths. Can they do it without their memories or is history doomed to repeat itself?**

**Shinji Hirako, against his will, has been named the new Commander General of Soul Society. Will he be able to pull it off or is Soul Society destined for ruin?**

**Whose this mysterious woman close to the King's heart who cares about Ichigo so much?**

**Have I pissed you off enough to have anyone follow me to Egypt with a computer?**

**Just kidding! Stay! I promise I'll be back soon. Look down, its a parting gift! **

**If this intermission had a song it would be "You Belong To Me", I listened to the cover by Jason Wade of Lifehouse off the Shrek Soundtrack. They lyrics really fit nicely with where the story is and where its going. **

**I also have the Espada-Tarot Suits below along with an explanation.**

**Nel-Coins or Pentacles**

**Nel is coins because coins is the Earth element. Given her release form I see a connection to earth with her. Also given she has spent the most time of all the Espada living around the desert. Its also the suit of wealth, possessions and most importantly the physical body of which Nel has had a few. Also we've got Dondochakka with his whole tiki-mask thing and that ability to roll along the earth.**

**Grimmjow-Wands**

**Grimmjow is Wands for a couple reasons. I knew I wanted him to be a weapon suit so it came down to Wands or Swords. Wants suits him better I think because Wands bares a connection to fire and whose more hot-headed than Grimmjow? Also Wands is part of the peasant class and the will of fire. Grimmjow has always been very strong willed but he was looked down on by the other Espada like Noitra and Ulquiorra. **

**Halibel-Swords**

**Halibel was the obvious choice for Swords. First off its the Air tarot and given her Zanpakto's shape, the hollowness, Air worked with her. Secondly, Swords represents freedom and change. Out of all the Espada Halibel's changed the most going from enemy to Captain. Also its got strong implications of violence and suffering as well as a feeling of responsibility, all of which tie to her character. Air works well with Sun Sun too since she's got her whip.**

**Ulquiorra-Cups or Chalices**

**Ulquiorra being Cups was probably the msot obvious of the Espada. For one its the Water tarot and he's got that right on his face. Secondly its often used in situations with emotional issues and whose got more of those than him? Its also got to do with spiritual matters and given where Ulquiorra's name comes from--one of them is a a priest--that made sense. Water is also good for Ulquiorra because though it may look calm on the surface it can be deceptive. **


	24. Swords and Wands

**Happy New Year everyone!**

VioTanequil **did a great job beta-ing. **

**We'll catch up with the Espada in a few. **

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When his new wife had put her hands on her hips and told him that they were moving into the Kuchiki Manor, Ichigo had known that there would be a day when he regretted it.

It seemed that day was today.

Though, in all fairness, he supposed that anywhere they lived it would be extremely weird for him to show up after what he had done. He knew he was probably in for the beating of his afterlife. If there was one time that Ichigo Kurosaki deserved to get beaten, this was it. Apparently the rest of the men had decided that Rukia was the only one who deserved to kill him because they had done little to put him in a body bag. Squaring his shoulders he pushed open the door to the rooms he shared with his wife.

Rukia was pacing back and forth and apparently he caught her mid step. Her foot froze as she faced him fully. She looked exactly the same as when he had seen her last, same pale skin, same doll-liked features. But somehow, somehow she seemed different to his eyes. Even if her pregnancy was not yet showing, just the knowledge that it was there--that their _child_ was inside her, it was enough to make him see her differently. For one heart stopping moment they just looked at each other.

Rukia saw him enter and froze. He looked exactly the same. Except--except he seemed to be looking not just at her but as though he was looking inside her. She realized he knew she was pregnant. She did not know how he knew but she was inwardly glad that they were on the same page. She saw guilt in his eyes and knew he felt terrible for leaving her behind. Probably just as bad as she felt for not being able to charge after him like she had done before.

Well there was one thing she could keep the same.

"You idiot!" she crossed the room, kicked him and grabbed the collar of his shirt when he doubled over, "you are the stupidest, arrogant, craziest man I have ever had to deal with in my _entire_ life! What the hell were you thinking charging off like that?!"

"That I could help save the world?" he said, his voice almost tentative.

"Help save the world?" her violet eyes practically burned into him as she repeated his suggestion.

"Should you be getting so worked up?"

"Don't you dare try to use our unborn child to get out of this!" she snarled, suddenly his lips curved up "why the hell are you smiling?" she demanded, "You're in so much trou--"

"You're pregnant."

Rukia arched an eyebrow.

"Yes, thank you, I know," she said sarcastically.

"With our child," he continued.

She opened her mouth to retort but he swiftly leaned down and kissed her. Rukia's eyes widened but her protests were swiftly silenced. Though quickly losing her ability to reason Rukia did spare a moment to think it was a bit troublesome that Ichigo could kiss her in a way that seemed to steal her anger away. Well she supposed if she couldn't find it she could always tell her brother he was more than welcome to do what he wanted too. As it was she let her arms encircle his shoulders. Finally he drew back, leaving her with a lingering kiss as she opened her eyes and looked up at him. One of the hands wrapped around her shoulders slipped off and gently trailed down her side to touch the still-flat skin of her abdomen.

"It's too early to tell," she said.

"I know," he said, "but it's still there," she nodded, "I'm sorry about--about everything," he said.

"Well, you did help save the world," she sighed.

There was the sound of voices outside.

"Ichigo?" she looked up at him, "what's going on?"

"Well---"

His house had been taken over by Kurosakis.

When his sister had shown up with her new husband in tow Byakuya knew it had been for him. He had still been largely holding the world at an arm's length but the occasions when he was letting people in were becoming more. Not wanting to lose that, Rukia had not so much asked her husband but rather, she had dragged him with her and simply begun to live had been grateful, of course, but he knew there would be a day when he would go crazy from his new extended family.

Apparently this was that day.

Naturally it made sense that they come to stay with them but while having one Kurosaki was loud, having more of them was just plain ear-splitting. Given all that had happened in the past few hours it was understandable that he had shown them to their rooms and excused himself to find _some_ sense of tranquility. The most tranquil place in the Kuchiki Manor was the gardens. Byakuya found himself wandering, his feet eventually bringing him to Hisana's garden. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the scent of the plants envelope him.

"You always were predictable."

Byakuya opened his eyes and let his gaze slide over to Gin Ichimaru. The Third Division Captain was leaning against one of the pillars looking a bit weak but otherwise fine. Byakuya did not bother to ask how Gin had gotten in. Words like 'guards', 'trespassing' and 'rules' were not things Gin listened to particularly well. Or at least, not how they applied to _him_.

"I assume you've been to the Fourth?" he asked.

"Eh, Unohana's got her hands fully," he shrugged, "it's just the last of the Spiritual Pressure exhaustion," he pushed himself up from the pillar, "so you've sounded the retreat?"

"Hardly," he said dryly glancing back at the manor, "I decided one battle was enough for today."

"That's just 'cause Kurosaki kicks your ass," he said.

"And I yours, yet you're still here," he replied.

"Glutton for punishment," he shrugged, "it's why we became Captains."

"I suppose you do not have any information concerning where they might be," Byakuya said after a pause.

"Any information I had was given a while ago," he said, "anything else would be in Las Noches and, well," he shrugged, "that ship's long gone."

Byakuya said nothing but was in silent agreement. Las Noches was nothing more than a patch of discolored sand now, though he doubted even that was still around the desert of Hueco Mundo. Though he was not sorry to see the palace go, the idea that there could have been something in there to help them prevent what had just happened was rather irritating. He did, of course, have faith in them and in their abilities but facing ones death was anything but easy and if that death had been horrible enough to prevent you from moving into the next life, it was not something that he would want to contend with.

"I would have expected you to be with Lieutenant Matsumoto," he said glancing at Gin.

"She's off celebrating with Hitsugaya," he said with a shrug and an easy grin.

It occurred to him then that perhaps Gin was at the Manor for a reason. After all, despite having a vastly improved relationship Gins till took delight in finding ways to torture Hitsugaya. Unfortunately, though a genius in most respects Hitsugaya was something of a lightweight when it came to drinking. Byakuya had a feeling that his reunion with Matsumoto was very sake heavy. But here Gin was, at the Kuchiki Manor or rather, in the graveyards of the Kuchiki Manor where he knew Byakuya would be instead of near the house where Ichigo would potentially have gotten verbal whiplash thanks to his wife.

"Was there something you needed?" he questioned glancing at Gin.

"Aside from seeing your long delayed emotional turmoil? I'm good," he replied easily lacing his fingers behind his head.

If he had been anyone else Byakuya would have blushed. Even with his excellent grip on his ability to _not_ show his emotions his eyes widened slightly before sliding to the ruby eyed man who continued to grin as though he was content with the world. Byakuya looked back at the memorial ahead of him.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," he said coolly.

"You always were a horrible liar," Gin said with a grin, "I'm surprised something didn't happen between you two before this."

"Nothing happened between Halibel and I."

The second the words left his lips he realized his slip up. To his credit Gin's grin did not widen that much more. Gin had always been a very perceptive man. Unfortunately given his reaction Byakuya realized that perhaps he was the last person to learn that others had noticed something between himself and the Ninth Division Captain. He swallowed and looked back at the grave, waiting for shame to fill him at the betrayal of his wife's memory. But nothing happened, he felt no shame and that was the most surprising thing of all. All they had done was spoken in a graveyard, nothing out of the ordinary.

Almost kissed in a graveyard, his mind supplied, _that_ was certainly out of the ordinary.

When thoughts such as those flared up he simply pushed them aside. As long as he was not in her presence it was very easy to maintain control of himself. But when he was beside her, that was an entirely different matter. Usually he was fine but the instances when it became harder and harder to maintain the cool indifference were coming much more often--much to his great displeasure. He loathed not being in control and yet he did not know of a single woman in his life who did not rob him of it. It seemed than during his training with the Elders, strong headed women had not been factored in.

"The way I heard it you two having been saving each other's asses left and right," he said.

"We have been saving each other," Byakuya replied, not entirely sure he liked the idea of Gin thinking about his or Halibel's asses.

"Yeah," Gin said with a grin, "and when's the last time anyone saved you?"

Byakuya said nothing. He knew it had been quite a while since anyone had saved him, much less saved him and then done his paperwork as an apology. He felt almost angry at himself. He was acting like a schoolboy, puzzling over the actions of a girl. He had never had to do that before, analyze every little thing she did. Never had he considered being with someone who was quite so enigmatic. He knew he was hard to read but he had never really considered the massive amount of frustration it took to deal with someone like that. He was going to have to apologize to everyone who had to deal with him on a daily basis if they felt the way he did at the moment.

He wondered how someone _not_ noble could be so incredibly hard to read. He could count on one hand the times that he had seen her anything but collected. Even when she was seething mad there seemed to be a measure of control to her. He had been told, but Ichigo Kurosaki no less, that his eyes sometimes gave him away. He knew from experience that Halibel's lips were the thing that gave her away. He realized then that he was intrigued by what she would be like without the control she treasured so much. The moment the thought crossed his mind he tried to push it away without avail.

He was intrigued by her.

He was attracted to her.

She was gone.

Gin watch the multitude of emotions play across Byakuya's eyes with interest. When the former Espada had been sent to the transient world he knew they would be back but he was not about to pass up the idea of seeing their significant others--even those who didn't know it yet--reactions to the news. He had decided Soifon was probably going to be homicidal and then suffer a breakdown of some sort. Gin was not in the mood to be poisoned because he was the nearest man. He imagined that Renji was probably going to be the most sensible--and the most boring. Orihime was probably going to be noble and then cry or something equally feminine and he wasn't in the mood to deal with that. So he had gone to Byakuya Kuchiki.

He had been so right.

He knew that Byakuya was developing feelings for the former Espada/current Ninth Division Captain. In fact, he imagined that the only person in Soul Society who hadn't realized it was Byakuya himself--and probably Halibel. Byakuya was the only person he had seen the Ninth Division Captain loose her cool around on a regular basis. Apparently while he had been off in the transient world things had happened that he was not aware of. He was just glad that neither of them had realized it quite yet. If he missed _that_ he was going to be seriously pissed off.

"Don't look so damn depressed," he said, "she'll be back," he grinned, "they'll all be back soon enough."

"The notion of not being able to fight in battles does not sit well with me," Byakuya said.

"You're just impatient," Gin said. Byakuya arched an eyebrow and opened his mouth as if to contradict that but Gin just shook his head, "oh you act cool about it but I seem to remember a year when you spent every second looking for a girl."

Byakuya closed his mouth. It was true, he had thrown himself into the search for Rukia. Even when he had finally mastered the art of appearing indifferent to the world, his grandfather had told him that his lack of patience was his greatest shortcoming. Of course his grandfather could never be fully pleased at anything so Byakuya had not given much thought to the statement until he realized that the old man was, once again, correct.

"I suppose there is some truth to your words," he told Gin.

"So you'll fit right in with your other impatient house guests," he continued. Byakuya glared, "you're just lucky you got such a big house."

"I do not underestimate the Kurosaki Clan's ability to make even the largest of spaces seem too small," he said dryly.

"Hope you got the servants to hide the antiques," he said.

"Though good at their jobs, my servants are not miracle workers," he said, "I'm afraid we'll have to start now if the Manor is to be ready for my niece or nephew's arrival."

"Rukia's pregnant?" Byakuya nodded, "that why you let Kurosaki live?"

"Even I am not foolish enough to incur my sister's rage," Byakuya said.

"We all have our strokes of brilliance," Gin replied.

Byakuya said nothing.

"Well I'd better go. Something tells me Hinamori and I are going to be carrying Hitsugaya and Matsumoto home tonight," he said walking off, "Well, good luck with your new crazy family."

"And to you with carrying Matsumoto home," he replied.

Gin smirked and walked down the path before he stopped and turned around. Byakuya was still in front of his wife's grave. The similarity to the situation hit him. Gin remembered the last time it had been him struggling with himself at a grave. Now it seemed that the situation was reversed. Matsumoto was back and Byakuya seemed almost ready to give love another shot. It seemed that despite Aizen's intentions and contingency plans, despite the King being a complete idiot and the world having almost been fractured once more, hope found a way to worm its way through. Feeling actually amused at the way the world worked for once, Gin looked at his fellow Captain.

"Hey, Byakuya," Byakuya turned his head, "when you're ready, its not as hard as you think it'll be."

Before he could see what was probably Byakuya's very comical reaction Gin shunpoed off to go collect Matsumoto.

* * *

With every strike she landed on the punching bag Soifon cursed a variety of things. She cursed back cats, blue hair and wicked grins. She cursed calloused hands that dragged down her pale skin and blue eyes that seemed sometimes to look through to her very soul. She cursed Kings and fools and everyone else who bore even the slightest bit of fault in the situation at hand. Most of all she cursed Mayuri and Urahara for figuring out a way to cure them, Aizen for creating them and Yamamoto for letting them stay. She cursed his devil-may-care attitude and the fact that every time the word 'no' fell from her lips, it seemed to be a challenge to make her change her mind.

From the doorway Yoruichi watched her protégé beat the punching bag. She wondered if Soifon was aware that her knuckles had split, that as she hammered her anger into the bag she hammered her heart as well. Yoruichi doubted it and even if she did know Yoruichi knew better than to tell her to stop. She knew Soifon still did not like to acknowledge the presence of her heart. That, at least, Yoruichi could not take full credit for. She knew that had to do with her family, with the lives they had all chosen. One could not be an assassin--even the head assassin--and acknowledge their heart in any serious kind of way.

At least not until they fell in love.

Yoruichi knew she had been fortunate to realize that she, at least in some way, loved the blond haired idiot that would one day become her husband _before_ he left Soul Society behind. She had not realized how much she loved him, not then anyway, but she realized that a life without Kisuke Urahara was an unbearable thing in time to prevent it from becoming a reality. She had also been fortunate enough to be in a position to help him even if taking on the Central 46 was not a small task, Soifon had not had that chance, nor that luxury. She knew that when Soifon was upset or angry or not in the mood to deal with her emotions the easiest thing was to beat something up until she could not feel anymore. Until her mind shut down and her body ran on automatic. It was a warrior's defense or, if Yoruichi was being honest, a coward's..

When the punching bag tore and white sand spilled across the pristine floor of the training hall Yoruichi stepped into the room. Soifon was standing over the sand, staring at the grains as if she had never seen the inside of a punching bag before. White, white was the color of the outer parts of his eyes, of the jawbone that had been taken from him along with his other Hollow features. He was still a Hollow, still not whole despite everything that said he was. Not in the eyes of the King. Not in the eyes of the person who had let them all suffer, who had not been in Soul Society in two thousand years. At least Yamamoto had some sense. He had no right to do what he did. Soifon turned around to go to the next punching bag and stopped at the sight of Yoruichi standing just outside the pool of sand, nothing but understanding in her gold eyes.

"Save it," Soifon snapped walking over to the new bag, "I don't need that from you."

"Need what?" Yoruichi asked, glad Soifon was talking even if her words were harsh.

"Understanding," Soifon said before she swung her fist around and began to stain the already dark leather of the bag.

"I know," Yoruichi said, "I know this is the one lesson that I have no advice for. I can't help you with this."

"There's nothing to help with," Soifon snapped, "I'm fine."

She sounded fine, of course. If there was one thing Soifon was good at it was shoving everything she felt into some dark corner of her mind for a good long while. Unfortunately that was not something they could afford, not with the new King and certainly not with the position that their friends were in at the moment. The second Division was going to have to be ready for anything. Especially with its Vice Captain absent. She would step up and take most of the work but Ulquiorra had been very well suited to the Second Division and to Soifon's leading style. She knew that the two got along well and if friends had been a regularly used word in Soifon's vocabulary she would have applied it to their relationship. But Yoruichi knew the real one Soifon was mad about was Grimmjow and that the anger was only present because tears were something Soifon would not allow herself to shed, especially not over someone like Grimmjow Jeagerjaques.

Abruptly Soifon stepped back.

"Where are you going?" Yoruichi asked.

"Home," Soifon said and vanished in a burst of shunpo.

It was easy to make it to her door, easier still to step inside the apartment. It was dark and if she had been wiser she would have left it that way and possibly made it to the bedroom. But in what she would later call an act of utter and total stupidity she turned on the lights, throwing her apartment into sharp clarity.

She was an idiot.

The furniture in the main room was slightly crooked and though she had yelled at him to fix them Grimmjow had done no such thing to the cushions on the couch, nor the mats on the floor. She could see the kitchen through the room at the odd and mostly offensive fridge magnets he insisted on putting on the white appliance. She hadn't even really had a fridge before he had come into her life and shown her that food could be used for more than one day. Or what ice cream was. The bathroom still had her few products and his, hers mostly black and his--what else--blue. To her other side the bed was still rumpled. He had never been one for neatness, nor one to indulge her desire for strait edges and lack of wrinkles. It wasn't her fault that every time she made the bed with her military precision he insisted on making out on it until they were both too late to make it properly. She could just picture the leopard print tank top and oversized black pajama pants that she usually wore to bed, both because they were comfortable and because the print drove him absolutely insane.

Her collection of Yoruichi-style cats that he had found had somehow all wound up with something blue on them. Blue collars, blue hair, blue something as if he was determined to remind her that the only cat she was allowed to associate with was _him_. She hadn't spoken to him for a week when he had done that and left a massive stuffed animal in the shape of a black panther by the couch, the bright blue bow around its neck almost comical to the white teeth.

Determined not to care, to prove that she could ad would do this she walked through the room to their, no, to _her_ bedroom and went to change into dry cloths, unaware of her still bleeding knuckles. She grabbed an oversized shirt and lifted it up before his scent hit her. He had always smelled good. Really good. She hadn't known how he did it, she suspected he used his rooms at the 5th Division to hoard cologne since she never found a bottle. His scent filled her and suddenly it struck her how terribly wrong it was that the apartment was so quiet and so incredibly empty. Even when they were not fighting or having sex his presence had always been a sharp contrast to her own. She could stand in a room and be invisible. He could not. Her heartbeat began to echo in her ears as she realized that somehow, sometime when she hadn't been looking he had done something truly unforgivable.

He had made her apartment a home.

A home that was now half empty. The shirt fell from her fingers as she sat down hard on the bed. Any attempt they had to establish sides on the bed had been completely useless. She had never learned to sleep still and it seemed that neither had he. They had woken in some very awkward positions that would have her blushing and him remarking that maybe she was human after all. Who was going to tell her that now? The shirt dropped from her numb fingers. Soifon was more than capable of taking care of herself but somehow, probably around the same time her house became a home, she had become accustom to living with another person. Now that person was gone. Now she was, once again, alone.

Her knuckle stung. Soifon looked down to see a handful of crystal drops on her abused hands. She did not need to lift her hand to know that she was crying. She could feel the tightness in her throat and the stinging in her eyes. When her lips parted and she heard her breath escape as a shaky sob, it did not sound alien to her ears. She lowered her head, her forehead touching the bed sheets that still carried his scent as she felt her body shake with sobs. She was still furious at him but now she realized that against her will she missed him as well. She missed his knowing eyes and his wicked grin. She hated the fact that at the moment she did not know where he was and, worse still, he did not know _who_ she was. At the moment Grimmjow Jeagerjaques was gone and the world seemed a far colder place because of it.

When she had cried until she could not anymore Soifon stood up and pulled on the shirt that she had been about to. Part of her wanted to go and stay with Yoruichi, to get as far away as she could. But this was home and she would not go simply because he was gone for the moment. He would be back and when he was she was going to make him be her personal slave for a good long while.

Pulling on a pair of pants, she set out to the Fourth Division to get her knuckles healed.

She was, after all, the Captain of the Second Division and showing up for the first meeting under the new Commander General with bloody knuckles would be bad form.

When she opened the door she knew Yoruichi would be outside, ready to offer her a place to stay. If she noticed that Soifon's eyes were red or that the shirt she wore was obviously masculine she knew better than to say anything. Soifon looked over at Yoruichi's gold eyes and for a moment said nothing.

"I'm going to torture him myself when he gets back," she said finally.

"Men deserve much worse, but let's go get your knuckles healed first."


	25. Pentacles and Chalices

**I have to apologize to the wonderful artists Dwellin and Airumel, I forgot to mention this last time but Dwellin has once again spoiled me rotten with gorgeous fanart for Grimmjow/Soifon and Ulquiorra/Orihime. Both pieces are wonderful and include lots of wonderful scenes from their relationship. Also Both Dwellin and Airumel have drawn AMAZING fanart for Byakuya/Halibel. The pieces both just blew me away and both of the Byakuya/Halibel ones are definitely going to be scenes later on in the story. I'll let you know which ones they are.**

**Also as per the requests I've gotten I've started a story with IchiRuki as the focus. Its called Verona. So that means I've got four big stories (Toro Nagashi, Arcana, Verona and Scarlet) so I beg your understanding in the sporadic updating.**

**VioTanequil is an awesome beta reader!**

* * *

As the tattooist drew the inky lines across Renji's outer thigh, the red haired Vice Captain kept his eyes on the ceiling.

"You seem unusually quiet," the Tattooist observed, "When you come here you're usually loud enough to wake the District," the man wiped a hand across the darkened skin, "Your accomplishments usually shine brightly on your face. Today you are as dark as the ink."

"You remember that girl I brought here?"

"The Phoenix," the Tattooist replied instantly, "It is difficult to forget those that shine so bright."

"She's also the only girl you've ever brought here," he said, "I was wondering when I'd meet the violet eyed one you'd always be blabbering about," Renji felt his cheeks heat up, "but I think I preferred the Phoenix to her," he said, "It is rare to find someone like that," his hands paused, "don't tell me you've gone and lost her again."

"Nah," Renji said, "well, actually, I guess I did."

"You guess? How exactly do you not know if you lost someone?"

"Oh, she's gone alright, but I didn't loose her. Not like I did before anyway," he said.

"Where did she fly off too?" he asked.

"The transient world," Renji said, "without her memories or anything like that. She's got to finish the story she wasn't able to before. She's got to finish her life, the life she would have had if she hadn't been killed."

"To be worried about another is a perfectly natural thing," he said.

Renji said nothing. He had not thought that the strange feeling inside him was worry but he supposed that it was not a stretch to think it was. He was actually worried about her. It actually was not that far fetched a thought. He did, after all, love the green haired woman, despite all her craziness and the time she pushed him away. Despite everything or perhaps it was because of everything he loved about her. He was glad that she loved him and even more that she loved him and realized it before this had all happened.

It would make it far less awkward when she came back.

"Wonder where she is," he said aloud.

"Have you tried to contact the others in the transient world?" the Tattooist asked. Renji frowned, confused, "you mentioned Ryoka and not all of them seem to have died."

"The King said that we couldn't help them," he said.

"Last I heard, the Quincy's were not under the jurisdiction of the King of the Shinigami."

Renji's eyes widened as he looked down at the man tattooing his leg with wide eyes. Still intent on his work the man did not look up from Renji's skin, seemingly unaware of the fact that his client was possibly suffering a heart attack. The King had said _they_ couldn't help but if anyone had an ace up his sleeve it was Uryuu Ishida. Though he did not want to jeopardize their ability to come home, Renji did not want to sit back and do nothing. He couldn't do anything but he knew Ishida could. He probably would as well. He could help them or at least he could know where they were.

"You know, you're pretty smart," he said looking down at the old man.

"We all have our moments of brilliance," he said sitting back, "There," he looked up at Renji, "you'll run out of skin at this rate."

"What'll you do then?" he asked.

"Go over lines again," the old man said with a shrug.

Renji got to his feet and pulled his hakama on. Grabbing Zabimaru he nodded his thanks before taking off back to the Court of Pure Souls.

* * *

"Gin? Gin 'hic where're we going?"

Gin looked at the very beautiful, very drunk woman leaning on him and shook his head with a sigh. He had gone to the Tenth Division to discover what he feared was true. Though his tolerance was about a little as it had been when he was a kid, apparently Matsumoto had decided to celebrate her return with her Captain in a very sake-heavy way. No-one could _ever_ say no to Matsumoto and when they did it was always just a matter of time before they changed their minds. Given how drunk the two of them were, Gin had a feeling that it hadn't taken much for him to agree to the drinking.

"You just want to have _sex_ with me," Matsumoto accused hotly.

"Ran, I don't think there's a guy in Soul Society who doesn't want to have sex with you," he said looking down at her.

"Well, too bad for them," she said throwing up a hand, "the only one I wanna have sex with is _you_."

Gin snorted and shook his head, his grin not requiring any effort to keep in place. He had made the decision that Ran was going to be spending the night--and hopefully many nights to come--in the Third Division with him. She had put up no protests as they made their way through Soul Society. Gin knew that with any luck she'd have forgotten Hitsugaya's older appearance by morning thanks to the fact she had practically consumed her bodyweight in sake. If there was one thing that Gin knew, it was that Matsumoto screamed _very_ loudly. Hitsugaya would thank him one day. Of course, considering they had just survived another near-war he imagined that the infamous 10th Division Captain was going to be very busy with his fiancée.

"That's nice to know, Ran," he said as they neared the Division.

"I still want my necklace back," she slurred out. He looked down at the top of her head, his ruby eyes wide with surprise, "I know you have it. It was a present from, uh, from you! Yeah! For my birthday all those years ago," she stopped walking and turned so she was facing him. She jabbed a finger into his chest, "so you better give me back my necklace, Gin Ichimaru."

"I'll get your necklace when we get back," he promised, "I don't have your scarf though."

"S'okay," she said, "you can get me a new one."

"Okay," he said, "I'll get you a new one," they finally stepped into the Third Division.

"You've still got the Persimmon Trees!" Matsumoto cried with joy, "good, I'm hungry!" she turned her head, "hey is that Orihime?" she demanded looking over her shoulder, "she looks sad," she pouted, "why is she sad?"

"Why do you think?" he asked.

Orihime had helped with the relief effort until Unohana gently, but firmly, told her to go. Orihime hadn't been home to the apartment she shared with Ulquiorra, not yet anyway. The last time she had been so shaken she had been locked in a room, quite unable to walk to clear her head. This time she was not and instead of pacing she was able to wander rather aimlessly around, trying to sort out her chaotic thoughts. She was currently wandering around the outskirts of the Court, trying to stay off the heavily trafficked paths. Soul Society, it seemed, was in something of an uproar over what had happened. The loss of a Captain, three Lieutenants and two other Seated Officers, however temporary, was enough to send shock waves through the place she called home. That coupled with the fact that the Commander General seemed to be somewhat less than enthusiastic about his position was enough that she was surprised Soul Society was still standing.

Ulquiorra being an Arrancar was not something Orihime could deny, given the fact that when she met him among his first words to here were his infamous one line 'come with me, woman'. Some of the new recruits had asked how they had met and poor Ulquiorra seemed so confused as to what to tell them that Soifon had stepped in and told them to fuck off. Orihime imagined that even when they had begun to spend more and more time in each other's company, the idea of loving another person was one that Ulquiorra had something of a hard time comprehending. After all, for someone who had spent most of their afterlife not knowing what a heart was, discovering what it was and then giving it away was jarring. Orihime had always been too trusting with her heart and Ulquiorra flat out told her on a regular basis until she sat him down and told him the only man she was trusting with her heart was him. He had been shocked but she had pointed out he kept the rest of her perfectly fine, why should her heart be any different?

Ever since she knew her brother became a Hollow because he wanted to stay by her, she had known that Ulquiorra hadn't finished his life. That there had to be a reason he hadn't come to Soul Society until Urahara and Mayuri had cured the Espada. Or cured them as much as they could, in any case. When the dreams started, she knew that it was only a matter of time before something happened to force him to confront his past. She may not have been able to foresee this, but she knew that there would be a day when he would have to deal with what made him, well, him. Orihime knew it and she accepted the fact. She certainly had accepted stranger things in her life.

She sometimes thought about what could have been.

What if Rukia hadn't come charging through Ichigo's window, would she just have been another Spirit he saw? What if she and Sado and all their friends hadn't developed Spiritual Pressure. They would have wound up in Soul Society of course but they would all be strangers, their slates would all be clean. She would have her different lifetimes, her different towns and all the things she had told Ichigo that she wished for the night she left him behind. She wondered if that would have somehow, somehow appealed to her. She supposed it would, right around the time when the 'Future Me' she talked about was a robot that could fire missiles from its chest. So much had changed.

When she got to Ulquiorra's rooms at the Second Division she was not surprised. She had barely even seen the inside of her own rooms in the Fourth. This was home, even if Ulquiorra was not in it at the moment. Her key opened the door just as it always had and she stepped through the doors into the apartment, half expecting it to just not be there anymore. How could it just be there, like nothing had happened? Everything was in order, their cloths still neatly put away. Her towel was still on the ground. How was it even possible that everything was just the same? He was gone and it seemed to make no sense that her home still looked the same.

"O-orihime?" Orihime turned to see Ayame, the Spirit that was far more attached to Ulquiorra than any other, peering at her anxiously.

"I'm alright," Orihime said, trying to smile and finding it very hard. She turned around and closed the door, locking it behind her, "really," she looked at the Spirits, "he'll be back very soon, you'll see. He'll be back in no time," she said walking to the bedroom, "I'm going to get my pajamas on."

"Should we drug the tea?" Shu'no asked her. Ayame said nothing.

Orihime opened the drawer and pulled out her regular sleeping cloths. A pile of Ulquiorra's laundry was in a basket by the bed. Orihime shook her head. He might have been neat and orderly but if there was one thing Ulquiorra hated it was to clean things. Or to put them away. Orihime sighed and bent down, picking up his cloths and going over to his drawers. She pulled them open and began to sort through the cloths. As she did her fingers brushed against something hard and not cloths-like. Shaking her head at his disorganization she sighed and pushed the shirts away, picking up the small black box.

Orihime frowned and looked at the object in her hands. Why would Ulquiorra have such a thing? Curiosity at the secrets the black box was keeping and courtesy at respecting Ulquiorra's privacy battled inside Orihime until the latter won out. She put the box on the top of the dresser and finished sorting the laundry, sliding the drawer shut. Her fingers itched though, even as she slid her nightgown over her head. Finally, unable to stand it for another moment she snatched the black box off the dresser. If it was for her, which she imagined it was, then she could always pretend to be surprised--even though Ulquiorra would probably see right through it. Oh well, it wasn't as though---

Orihime's eyes widened.

Her lips parted.

She sat down _hard_ on the bed, the black box clutched in her hands like it was a lifeline.. Her eyes seemed to be going in and out of focus but even when her vision was blurry the gems twinkled back at her. When it was clear they were still there, sparkling up at her. Dark gold, almost sunset colored like her hair. There were seven stones set in the band, encircling it perfectly. Seven stones--six for her fairires and one for his Zanpakto. She felt a tug at the box and saw Ayame trying to pry it from her hands rather frantically.

"You're not supposed to see that!" the Spirit cried, "its supposed to be a surprise! A surprise that involves lilies!"

"H-he--" Orihime could barely get the words out, "he was going to--"

"He wanted to propose when this was over," Ayame said, finally releasing her tugging on the box. She flew over to Orihime's shoulder. The little Spirit's eyes welled with tears, "h-he let us pick out our stone because he didn't know what colors would look like us."

Orihime stared at the box, biting her lip softly as she looked at her perfect engagement ring. Taking a deep breath she gently closed the lid of the box and stood up, walking back over to the dresser. She slid open the drawer and riffled through until she found the shirt it had been hidden under. She tucked it neatly under the fabric, concealing it once again before she turned to Ayame.

"Now you can't tell him I saw it," she said.

"I won't," the Spirit promised, "but he'll know."

Orihime smiled softly.

"He always knows," she said, walking over to their bed, "well now Grimmjow can't say we're 'living in sin' anymore," she said laying down on his side of the bed.

"Grimmjow can't talk about anyone else's sins," Ayame said softly.

"That's very true," Orihime agreed, breathing in. The pillow still smelled like Ulquiorra, "tomorrow I'm going to have to go visit Soifon, even though she won't really like that," Orihime got comfortable in the bed, "'night," she said softly to the fairy.

She was asleep before she heard the reply, dreaming of Ulquiorra and wishing that he was home.

While the rest of Soul Society slept, the First Division was _anything _but peaceful.

"This is fucking bullshit!" Kensei's angry roar echoed in the offices of the Commander General, "we made a choice to stay the hell away from Soul Society! Damn it, I _knew_ we shouldn't have come within ten miles of a portal! Now look at us!"

They did make a rather sorry sight. Always relatively close with her Hollow, Mashiro was in a corner hugging her knees to her chest weeping as quietly as she could. Kensei didn't ever particularly like his Hollow, and he might not have missed the bastard but he did _not_ like it when Mashiro cried. Hiyori was leaning against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. Her head was bowed and she was clearly _not_ enjoying being right in telling Shinji that they shouldn't come to Soul Society. Shinji looked, by far, the most furious of anyone there. The Captain's cloak with its cherry lining was in a heap in the corner. He was standing nearby, looking absolutely livid. If Kensei hadn't been so infuriated he would have been a bit afraid of what Shinji could do. But he was just as angry as the newly minted Commander General and a big part of him wished that Shinji would start a fight so he could hit _something_.

"Stop fucking crying!" he shouted over his shoulder as Mashiro hiccupped.

"B-but--" Mashiro blubbered, "but she's gone! I can't feel her!"

"Get over it!" Kensei snarled turning back to Shinji, "what are we supposed to do now huh? Just go back to being a Shinigami? Just pretend the past two hundred years was nothing more than a bad dream?!"

Shinji gave no reply. Normally Kensei would take his anger as a big sign that it was not a good idea to anger him. A quiet Shinji was like a suitcase bomb. It looked harmless, it looked like a suitcase, but the second it went off you were fucked. Still that logic was not quite enough to keep him from rounding on him. Kensei marched over to him and grabbed the ex Fifth Division Captain, current Commander General by his collar and slammed him against the wall. Shinji looked at him calmly with his grey eyes, as though Kensei had done nothing more than pat him on the back.

"You're the fucking Commander General!" snarled Kensei, "you'd better start coming up with fucking answers!"

Shinji wanted to point out that the _last_ thing he wanted to be in his entire fucking life was the illustrious Commander General of Soul Society. The voice or King or whoever the fuck it had been made sense, healers came in after battle, sick people tended to have enough to worry about. But why, why the hell couldn't it have been Shunsui? Shunsui had been in Soul Society for the past couple hundred years as Shinji drank himself into oblivion. But no. No, things couldn't make sense. No, the world couldn't kindly shove it while he went about his life. No, he had to have a mantle he never would have wanted shoved onto his shoulders.

Sometimes life was a fucking bitch.

Shinji knocked Kensei's hand aside easily. He walked away from him, coming to stand by the window. The former Ninth Division Captain, former Vizard watched him, his face rapidly darkening to a shade of red that only Mashiro had been able to produce and then only once, during an incident where she loudly proclaimed to the entire division that Kensei had a sex position tattooed on his chest. Of course that wasn't what the tattoo meant but it had taken him months to get the Division to stop calling him 'sexy chest'.

"Kensei," Shinji said, not turning around, "you're the Acting Captain of the Ninth Division. Mashiro, you're Third Seat."

"Come on, Mashiro," Kensei snarled, "I stay here one more second and I think I'm gonna be sick."

Hiyori fought not to jump when he slammed the door. She remained where she was, not feeling the need to fight her way past the cloud of angst that seemed to cloud Shinji. Finally, the new Commander General turned around and glared hotly at her. Without a word he walked over to the desk and yanked something out of it, storming back to her and practically throwing the Lieutenant arm badge at her head. She caught it automatically and yanked it up her arm, pulling it almost unnecessarily tight. She got to her feet and stormed over to the door.

"I'm going to bed," she said hotly glaring at him, "and you'd better get your fucking act together," she said furiously to Shinji, "cry or whatever it is that miserable fools like you do," she put her hands on her hips, "and when it's morning, you'd better be back to the Shinji that I followed from here to the transient world or I swear to whatever God you fucking worship that I am going to find the _biggest_,_heaviest_ sandal in the world and beat you within and inch of your life with it!"

She slammed the door as she left.

For the first time, Shinji didn't feel quite as miserable as he had moments before.

Some things never changed.

* * *

A world away, Detective Nicholas Grimm knocked back another shot of the dark amber colored liquor and wondered how his life had gotten so wretchedly complicated.


	26. King of Wands

**Okay so, welcome to the next chapter of Arcana!**

**If you are confused I beg your forgiveness. This is a set up for the next arc of the story. Now one quick thing, the Mizuho who is mentioned here is named for her paternal aunt, Keigo's sister. She is NOT her.**

**As you all know **VioTanequil **is a kick ass beta reader who got this chapter done in record time. It was my lazy ass that dragged the whole way in writing it so big thanks to her.**

**Also there's new fanart! Kiephra has done two wonderful sketches, one of Grimmjow and Soifon which makes them the official leaders in the fanart pack AND one of Shuuhei and Sun-Sun. Personally I'm a sucker for the latter of the two because I think they are one of my favorite crack! pairings in this story. There's rumors she's gonna do one of RenjiNel which would just completely make my day. Dwellin did a fantastic one of them and I'd be psyched to see what Kiephra comes up with. Her work's in my favorites on my homepage or you can go to her page.**

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The smoke stung his eyes the moment he walked into the bar.

Patrick Schiffer spared a moment to wince at the unpleasant sensation. With a sigh, he pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and looked around the room. It was a disgusting place really. The smell of cheap liquor and cigarette smoke was cloying but far more depressing was the air of hopelessness that clung to the place. He was painfully aware of how he stuck out in the middle of the bar. He had just come from a meeting with the government officials and he looked like it. The government was by no means welcome in this place, that much was clear. But when Nick hadn't picked up his phone, he knew something was up.

"What is he doing in a place like this?" Patrick muttered looking around with a sigh before reaching into his pocket and pulling out the device. He hit the button for Nick's speed dial and waited. Finally the ring echoed across the sound across the room. Patrick wove his way through the room towards where the sound was coming from, "Damn it," he swore.

Nicholas Grimm as there, alright. He sat in front of the bar, body slumped over the drink in front of him. He looked like the most hopeless, sorry son of a bitch in there. His blond hair was in even more disarray than it usually was; his blue eyes were fogged over as he looked at the glass. His coat was in a heap on the bar next to him along with the jacket and shirt he had worn, Patrick did not even begin to guess the whereabouts of his tie. Through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, Patrick could see the panther tattoo on his right shoulder blade. He hung up the phone when it became clear that Nick was not going to pick up.

"What the hell are you doing?" Patrick demanded looking at his friend, "are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"It'd un-complicate things," came the uncharacteristically low reply as the blond raised the glass to his lips and poured the rest of the amber liquid down his throat.

"We have to get out of here before someone sees you looking like this," Patrick said grabbing his coat, "your cover's going to be blown."

"Let them see," he said spinning around on the barstool, "who says it's a cover anymore anyway? Maybe I really am bad."

"You--" Patrick looked at him, "you're drunk," he said, ignoring the cold feeling that coiled inside him.

"And you're in denial," Nick said heaving himself to his feet. He snatched the coat from Patrick's hand.

"Nick--" Patrick reached out for his friend only to have the hand smacked away.

"Stay away from me," Nick snarled viciously pulling the coat on hard enough so that Patrick heard a seam rip, "get off this case."

"You know I can't do that," Patrick said patiently looking at him.

Nick made a sound in the back of his throat and turned, walking away. Patrick sighed and ran a hand through his coal black hair. He had known Nick for many years and he knew that if there was one thing he was, it was hot headed. Especially when he was troubled and drunk. Right now, the man was both. Patrick bent down to the spot where the coat had been wretched from his hands. On the scratched and dirty wood surface was a light dusting of another substance. It flickered softly in the light, like someone had thrown sugar over the ground and shone a bright light on it. Though he hated to do it, he touched his finger to the surface and straightened up, rubbing his fingers together. He ran his pointer finger over the chair.

It was numb.

Swearing, Patrick dusted his hand off and grabbed his phone out of his pocket once again, dialling quickly.

"Ms. Measures?" he said, "we have a problem, I need you to come to headquarters immediately."

Outside in the cold night, Nicholas Grimm staggered in the general direction of his apartment, trying not caring that he looked like hell come to life. Stupid best friends, what the hell did they know? Patrick had always been the more collected of the two of them--which wasn't saying much considering how little it took to get him to fly off the handle. What was he doing in that bar anyway? Why couldn't he just take the message and leave him the fuck alone? That was what Nick wanted. The further away Patrick was from this mess the better his chances of not getting sucked in--not getting sucked in more than he already was anyway.

"There you are."

Nick winced inwardly, his body reacting automatically to her presence. He raised his eyes already knowing what he would see. She looked more out of place than Patrick did in that bar. Only instead of looks of disgust or confusion, the only looks that were directed at her were lust-filled ones. Even in the cool winter her legs were encased only in stockings, the pale skin they hid taunting to his eyes. Tight leather boots encased her legs to just above her knee, the fur lined coat she wore exposing just enough skin to be teasing. Under it her dress was short, as her dresses always were, not that it bothered him. The gloves that encased her hands were leather and as sure as he was standing there, Nick knew they did not carry her fingerprints. Her features were strong, not doll like and certainly not innocent unless she needed them to be. Her hair fell around her in a cascade of platinum blond, only adding to her exotic pale eyes. As per her usual habit, her lips were a shade of pink that seemed to make her eyes jewel like, the small scar cutting the inner corner of her right eye seeming to add an air of danger.

Noel Winters, as beautiful--and damaged--as she was dangerous.

She pushed herself off the wall, exuding fluid grace and pure sexuality as she sauntered over to him. Cold or no, Nick felt all the blood in his body go south as she crossed the distance between them. He was taller than her but that did not stop her as she pressed her body against his, her hands sliding up to comb through his hair. He could feel her nails through the lining of her gloves as she pulled his head down and pressed their lips together. He had no chance to react before her tongue parted his lips and entered his mouth. He could taste her lipstick, the champagne she had been drinking, everything as she invaded his mouth. His body was numb as he let her kiss him roughly. Finally she stepped back and pulled one of her gloves off, running her scarlet thumb nail over the outline of her lips to remove any smeared pigment.

"You left the party early," she said pulling the glove on, "my father was worried about you."

"Yeah," he said, "I had something to take care of."

"Oh," her voice was soft and pouty, the lust that surged through him painful in response, "that's a pity, I had something _I_ wanted to take care of as well."

He did not realize she had backed him up against the wall until his back connected with the rough stone. Between the drugs and the alcohol he could barely feel anything as his head knocked against the stone. This time when she kissed him, her fingers slipped into the open folds of his coat. He felt her hands run up and down his body as her legs spread so his were trapped between her. He responded to the kiss this time.

He was an idiot.

One of her feet moved, knocking him off balance and sending him falling into the snow. He toppled over, his head striking the ground. The world spun nauseatingly as his head howled in pain. Hands were at his back, hauling him upwards. His foggy mind supplied that her hands had been searching for weapons--weapons, his badge, wallet and phone. She held the three items in her gloved hands. Despite the fog in his mind and his raw disgust at being taken in so easily, he had to admire her skill. Noel looked at the badge before slipping it into her pocket. The wallet went next. That confused him, she did not need the meager money he had in it. Then he realized she was after his identification. She was going to kill him. The phone she seemed to be examining. Her eyes narrowed at the screen. The hands at his back hauled him to his feet, holding him in place.

"Patrick Schiffer," she said looking at the name, "you and Mr. Schiffer seem to be--" her lips curved into a smile, "close."

"Leave him out of this," Nick gritted out as she walked over to him and slipped her hand into his pocket. Her glove came away coated with the powder, "he's got nothing to do with this!"

"Oh Nick," she made a soft, scolding sound in the back of her throat, "you disappoint me," she sighed.

The next instant his cheek was stinging from her backhanded slap. He could feel the substance sink through his pores and the small scratch he carried on his cheek. The bitch had coated her gloves in something. The world began to fog over as Noel signaled one of the men. He felt them at his back shifting, one of them coming around to face him. He raised a gun to point it at him. Noel turned her head, her eyes sweeping over him before she looked forward.

"Goodbye Nicholas," she said with a sigh, "we're going to visit Mr. Schiffer next."

"No!" Nick struggled, "no! Leave him out of this!"

"Hmm," Noel made a show of considering his request before suddenly there was a gun in her hand "I think not," she smiled even as her gloved finger pulled the trigger, "but I'll make sure that he knows that _you_ are the one that betrayed him. Patrick is going to know that you're a traitor."

The gunshot echoed through the night.

He sagged in the arms of the men, his head lolling forward as agony seared through his stomach. Noel watched him go limp with hopelessness and pain and smirked. She turned to the man and gave a curt nod, pushing the gun at him. There was no sense in her being incriminated in the shooting. Turning she stepped out of the alley into the night. Slipping her hands into her pocket she ran her gloved fingers over the edges police badge. It really was a pity, she had such high hopes for Detective Nicholas Grimm. Apparently her hopes were ill placed. Well that was what she got for putting her faith in a man. Shaking her blond hair she headed along the street.

Behind her the snow fell softly to cover her foot prints.

Back in the alley one of the men tightened his grip on the pathetic man in his arms. Nick felt his wrists tug painfully but fought to keep it off his face as he raised his eyes to stare down the barrel of the gun that was going to kill him. The man's face was covered in a mask. He was going to be killed by a nameless, faceless man wearing a mask. It was just in his head but he thought he could feel blood and acid and things pooling in places where it was not supposed to go. He tasted metallic in his mouth, he tasted blood. The masked man smirked, the black of his mask pulling to reveal the gesture. Nick looked up, his breath harsh and foggy in the cold air.

_He's going to know._

_You'll be carpets for my Division!_

_Next time we may have to use actual Zanpaktos._

_I'm not your girl, you're my guy._

_My guy._

The bullet whizzed over his head and slammed into the man holding him. Grimmjow wretched his hands free. With a sharp yell he dove forward and slammed his weight into the man with the gun, throwing him against the alley wall. The black metal object clattered to the cobblestones and skidded into the darkness. Grimmjow slammed his fist into the man's jaw and then brought his leg clean in between his knees. He doubled over with a choked gasp. Grimmjow grabbed his head and slammed it into the wall with a sickening crack. Grimmjow looked at the man as he sunk to the cobblestones. Behind him he saw a second man laying there unconscious as well--possibly dead. Grimmjow patted himself down frantically.

"Fuck! Where's my Zanpakto?!" he cried. His fingers touched something warm and sticky, "what the--" he raised his hand to the feeble light, red decorating them, "oh _fuck_."

The world lurched suddenly. Grimmjow spat blood onto the ground as he leaned heavily against the wall. He took a lurching step forward towards the light in the alley as his vision began to tunnel. He had been shot. That fucking King of Soul Society had told him that he was going to finish his story, the story of the person that would have been him. Apparently he had been too late. He had acted but instead of being successful all he had done was wind up switching places with a guy who was now dying. He was dying. The light hit his shirt. He saw blood spreading across the white of his shirt. He didn't get the wound though. It was small, too small to have been made with a sword. What was it made with? His mind seemed to be narrowing as fast as his vision had.

He was dying.

Shit, he was dying.

Grimmjow staggered to where the wall ended. His body lurched forward. His hand grabbed the wall but his skin was too clammy. His palm slid down the wall. The sidewalk rose up to meet him. He knew he should feel it as his body struck the ground, the concrete scraping skin off his cheek. But he did not. He felt nothing even as the blood began to pool across the white snow that coated the ground. His throat seemed to close up as the cold seemed to seep past his cloths, his skin, all the way to his bones. Damn it he was a fighter, he had _always_ been a fighter. But now he was slipping away. He was dying and he couldn't fight it, not this. Ulquiorra, Halibel, Neliel, they were still out there.

Soifon was back in Soul Society.

Oh God she was going to kick his ass _so_ hard.

"Well, well. This is just pathetic."

He couldn't see the voice that chastised him but it sounded oddly familiar. He heard a beeping sound and the person shifting their weight from foot to foot. He didn't hear their shoes, they must have known how to walk and keep silent about it.

"Yes, 911? I have a gunshot victim here--"

He could still hear the beeping, the echoing sound in the back of his head as the world dissolved into bright florescent white.

_Beep_

_Beep_

_Beep_

The beeping had a rhythm suddenly and it seemed to be timed perfectly to his heart. Grimmjow furrowed his brow as he struggled to open his eyes. Finally he pried his eyelids apart. Everything was white and smelled like antiseptic. He blinked, trying to figure out what was going on. He remembered being shot--but not much else. Taking a deep breath he winced as agony shot through his stomach. Keeping his breaths normal he turned his head to the side. He was not alone in the hospital room. Sitting next to him was a very human version of Ulquiorra wearing glasses and reading papers, a pen poised between his oddly long fingers. Grimmjow didn't know if this was really Ulquiorra or if this was--this was who Ulquiorra would have been. Judging from the glasses he imagined it was the latter of the two.

"Fuck," he swore, because there was no better greeting, "what happened."

"You're an idiot," the cool reply came as the glasses wearing version of Ulquiorra looked up at him, "you got yourself _shot_. You almost bled out in that alley."

"Thanks for saving me," he said.

"I didn't save you," came the flat reply that was so much like how Ulquiorra _had_ been, "I was busy trying to make sure Ms. Measures didn't get found out and that you're cover didn't get blown. I don't know if I succeeded so don't thank me for that yet either."

_"_Nice," Grimmjow muttered knowing Ulquiorra clammed up the moment there was any sign of an emotional threat.

"Excuse me, Dr. Schiffer but I need to speak to Detective Grimm," a woman said walking into the doorway.

Perhaps it was her lack of height or maybe the fact that her hair was as dark and choppy as Soifon's tended to be without the braid but Grimmjow couldn't help but feel almost comforted by the presence of the woman. Or maybe it was because her voice was the one that saved his life with such familiar disdain, he wasn't really sure. Despite her petite frame she walked into the room with the authority of someone who knew how to kick ass--and had no problem doing it. Her hair was actually not as dark as Soifon's and it was longer. Her eyes were an odd shade of brownish grey but somehow they suited her. The not-Ulquiorra got to his feet and walked out without as much as a glance at him, closing the door behind him.

"He gets like that when you get into trouble," the woman said, seeming to somehow know that he would have no idea how this version of Ulquiorra would act. Grimmjow looked at her suspiciously.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"Think of me as a guide," she said crossing her arms, "as someone who knows your situation and is ready to make sure you don't fuck it up beyond repair. I understand what's going on, what's at stake, everything. Now as it is, Soul Society cannot act in this matter. No assistance, no contact, nothing. Fortunately I am not from Soul Society seeing how I am still living."

"That doesn't answer my question. Who the fuck are you? Why should I trust you?"

"You have no choice when it comes to trusting me. As for my name," she smiled faintly, "my name is Mizuho Asano," she said, "my parents were friends with Ichigo, Orihime and all those guys," she crossed her arms, "I told you, I'm here to make sure you don't fuck everything up beyond repair," he continued to look at her blankly, "Ishida sent me."

"Ishida?" he pushed himself up, "the glasses wearing dude?"

"Yes."

"Fuck," he pressed a hand to his forehead, "what's going on?" he asked finally, "why do I feel like crap?"

"You've been incarnated," she said, "you feel like crap because you got shot--oh and you were drugged."

"Yeah," he winced, "some blond chick--" he froze, "fuck! Nel shot me!" he looked at his stomach and then at Mizuho, "Neliel shot me!" he repeated, too stunned to care that he was making absolutely no sense.

"She's not Nel," Mizuho said, "the woman who shot you is named Noel Winters."

"Sounds like a fucking comic book," he muttered.

"It gets worse," Mizuho said sitting down across from him.

"Worse?" he asked, almost afraid. Nel had just _shot _him.

"You two are sleeping together."

Shit.

He had to save the world, save his friends _and _he was sleeping with Neliel Tu who had just shot him. It seemed that no-one else remembered yet which meant that they were depending on _him. _Him and apparently whoever this chick who Ishida had sent to help him.

He was _beyond_ screwed.

* * *

**Okay so Grimmjow's gotta save the world! Anyone else get the feeling this might be a bit of a bad idea? To clear it one thing up, Mizuho is Keigo's daughter. I'm not telling you who her mom is but she is a cannon character you all know of. Ishida sent her to give a hand. Are the two world's going to collide despite the King's intentions? I'd say its a pretty safe bet considering how chaotic things tend to get around Soul Society. Besides, its not like I can keep my crack-tastic ships apart for long.**

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Last quick thing. I said this in Toro Nagashi but I'm gonna say it here too. People over one hundred of you have this on alert/fave. I am honored but please review. I like hearing from people--yes even you shy ones who don't like to do so. Pretty please? This, of course, isn't to detract from my regular reviewers who are nothing short of awesome. But for the rest of you, come on, please? I love to write these stories and I love to hear what you think of them.


	27. Queen of Swords

**READ ME**

**Given that Nick was mentioned in the chapter before last with Shinji and the others it does sound like no time elapsed. That's my bad. Time HAS elapsed. I'm not telling you how much yet because I want you to be as confused as Grimmjow but keep in mind that most of the story in the transient world up to this point as taken place in a relatively small town and now its moved to a major city. **

VioTanequil** gets a virtual cookie for beta-ing this far faster than I wrote it. **

**Oh and you all have GOT to go and look at kiephra's gallery. She drew the sweetest picture of RenjiNel. I don't know why I love that couple so much but I just do. Normally since they're separated I'd write a oneshot about them but since they're not going to be separated for long I think I can hold off**

**Was that a spoiler?**

***hides***

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* * *

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"I'm blond!"

Mizuho cracked open an eye. The bed where Grimmjow had been was empty, golden light coming from the open bathroom door. With a sigh she pushed herself up and walked over. Grimmjow was standing there in his underwear, jeans and a shirt on the toilet. He seemed to have forgotten them and his obvious plan to sneak out in light of the fact that he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. It was true, he did look different. His hair was blond, the marks under his eyes were gone. None of the battle scars decorated his body and on his shoulderblade was a panther tattoo--though she didn't think he caught sight of that quite yet. His fingers were pulling at the blond hair on top of his head as though he was either trying to pull it out or make sure that it was a wig.

"What? You thought blue hair was natural?" she asked.

"Yes--no--but _blond_?!" he dropped his hands, "I thoughtI was supposed to 'finish my story' or some crap like that," he looked over at her, "why am I me?" he looked at the mirror, "why do _I_ remember?"

"Your story is finished," she snapped, "you were shot. You flat-lined on the operating table. You _died_. End of story. Now you're you."

"I'm supposed to be back home!" he snared furiously, "End of story means I'm going home!"

"Apparently not," she said, "get dressed so I can try to bring you up to speed on who this new version of you is."

Grimmjow nodded as she turned and walked out, closing the door behind her. He looked at the stranger in the mirror. The blond man looked back at him, just as confused as he felt. His fingers reached down and touched the bandages that snaked around his stomach. He knew he had scars where his skin was unblemished, that the small bullet scar was not really one that belonged on his skin. Unwilling he reached up and touched the skin of his cheek. It was rough with stubble but it wasn't marked, not like it should have been. Dropping his hand he stepped back from the reflection and yanked the jeans off the toilet, pulling them on as hard as he could. He shoved his arms through the sleeves of his shirt, pulling the fabric down to hide the bandages.

Why was he still here?

He was supposed to finish his story and go home. He had been shot, he had _died_. Did he have to die again? What the hell was going on? Yanking open the door he marched back to the bed, anger doing what his muscles were having trouble pulling off. Mizuho leaned her forearms on her knees, the gesture oddly familiar. He shook his head, he had bigger things to attend to than the fact that this woman's parents knew Ichigo and co. If anything that was nothing but trouble, they clearly knew them before he came into the picture, back when Ichigo was a fucking idiot. He sat down and looked at her. She pushed herself up and leaned back in her chair, looking at him like a predator sizing up another, like a fighter studying an opponent before a match.

"You were robbed," she said, "so you're gonna have to fill out all the paperwork to get new things."

"Things?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Soul Society, whole bunch of ignorant idiots," she muttered standing up and walking over to the window before turning back to him, "you're in the Transient world," she said pressing her fingertips to a slightly raised portion of the wall, "welcome to the future," she added, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Grimmjow's eyes widened.

The slum bar he had been in was something that was apparently not common place. He was very high up in a building, the ground a dizzying sliver below him. High, narrow building seemed to reach up to pierce the heavens, the glass reflecting the blue heavens. He was thankful it was a slightly clouded day or he imagined it would have been impossible to look at the buildings without his glasses. Narrow walkways seemed to connect a handful of them at regular intervals. The one he could see closest to them had three people who seemed to be standing still but moving none the less. He peered downwards. Far beneath him he could see narrow streets like the ones he had walked down filled with cars and people. He looked over at Mizuho who surveyed the world with eyes that plainly said she had seen it all before and found nothing shocking in the place.

"How long ago was I--" he looked at her.

"A while," she said.

"A while?" he looked down and then at her, "but last night--"

"You were in a slum last night," she snapped, "trying to drink away the world, of course it seemed familiar to you."

"I can't remember anything," he said, loathing how weak he felt.

"Look I don't know anymore about what's going on then you do," she said, "I'm here to give you the quick and dirty on who you are and then stick around to help the rest of this merry bunch. That's _it_. All your other questions--well, you can ask someone else because I got nothing for you. Now sit so we can get this over with."

He sat and she tossed a manila folder onto his lap. He flicked it open and almost wished he hadn't. The first picture was clearly a younger version of him grinning cheekily up at the camera. A woman and a man beamed down at him, the beloved son with his parents. There was an assortment of pictures from childhood, an idealistic white picket fenced life with two beloved parents. Nothing spoke of out of the ordinary. The next picture was a High School graduation photo, apparently the teenage years had been kind to him, or as kind as they were to any teenager. Grimmjow flicked through the photos.

"I'm a--" he bit back the bile filled world.

"You were a good guy," Mizuho said, "at least in the beginning. Oh you had the leather jacket--"

"And the motorcycle," Grimmjow said holding up the picture.

"But you didn't pull any bad shit," she said.

"Fuck."

Mizuho peered at the picture and felt her lips curve. Grimmjow gripped the photography tightly. It was the person he was again, standing in front of a small room that looked like a college dormitory. He was smiling but rolling his eyes as an older version of the man who was his father grinned good naturally. But the swear word was directed at the figure in the background of the picture who was setting up his things on the other side of the room. His back was to them but Grimmjow would know that ram rod stick-up-the-ass posture anywhere.

He was college room mates with Ulquiorra.

After that there wasn't a picture without the two of them in it. They laughed together, they drank together--there was even a picture of the two of them getting tattoos. If Ulquiorra really had a bat tattoo on his arm Grimmjow was going to have a great time ripping on him. At least the panther that apparently decorated his shoulder blade was cool. And then he came to the picture of him dressed in a uniform, obviously at a graduation.

"I'm a--" one again he couldn't get the words out.

"You are Detective Nicholas Grimm," she said.

"Not only am I a good guy but I--I _help_ people?" he groaned, "God, I thought Hollows couldn't let go of their past lives because they were full of pain and torture and crap like that."

"That's true. It's also true you did help people," she said, "but that was a while ago."

"What do you mean?"

"You're corrupt," she said moving the last picture to the front, "because of _her_."

Grimmjow stared. This was a Neliel he had never seen before in his entire life--at least not before last night and then it had been just a glimpse. Nel had always been gorgeous, as the Third Espada tended to be. But she had always seemed so in control of herself, almost to the point where she made Ulquiorra look emotional. But not now, not this woman. Even just in the picture he couldn't take her eyes off her. The picture was obviously taken from a distance zoomed close. She was sitting talking to someone. She had her legs crossed, short skirt high enough to see the darkened edge of the tops of her stockings. High shoes decorated her feet, all the black offsetting the cashmere sweater that was only loose so he would be tortured thinking of the body underneath it. Apparently Neliel's controlled persona had been something that came after much experience being uncontrollable.

Then he saw who she was eating with.

Of all of them she looked the most similar except that now she was wearing more clothing. Same dark tan skin, same teal green eyes--her blond hair was different, longer now but the fact it was caught up in a clip at the back of her head made it difficult to tell exactly. She was dressed in jeans and boots, a loose dark red shirt barely showing any sort of skin. Unlike the incarnation of Nel, Halibel seemed to have no idea the effect she had on men. She was sitting back in her chair, almost as if she was nervous about being so close to Nel but trying not to show it--or at least not to make it painfully obvious. It didn't matter though, he could see the men of the restaurant were torn over who to stare at. Loose red shirt or no, it was obvious that she was very attractive.

"Noel Winters," she said tapping the picture of Nel, "the one who shot you."

"What about her," he jabbed a finger at Halibel, "who is _she_?"

"Her?" Mizuho smiled, "that is Habibah Isabelle Measures--she goes by Isabelle--the fiancée of Noel's Uncle," he must have looked confused, "Noel is the daughter of the head of the Winters Crime Syndicate," she said, His eyes widened, "her father has a brother whose long had his eye on taking his brother's place. Now Isabelle has no mob connections but she has the money and the pedigree to help him out."

"I'm sensing a 'but' here."

"About six months ago, shortly after becoming his fiancée, he decided to hit her. Isabelle wouldn't stand for it. Now the Winters' family has a lot of connections and though she tried to leave him, she was unsuccessful until your police division agreed to help her escape in exchange for her help in bringing down the Winters family. She got you in and you found Noel--" her eyes narrowed, "what is so shocking about this?"

"I'm sorry but the fact that Halibel's wearing more cloths then Nel is just messing with my mind."

"Damn it I keep trying to tell you these aren't the people you know!" Mizuho said angrily, "they have no idea that you're not the slimebag who's about to betray them al--shit," she swore. Grimmjow frowned as heard the sound of heeled shoes on the hospital floor ways, "that's her."

"Wait, which her--"

"Doesn't matter," Mizuho packed up the folder and slipped out into the hallway.

Grimmjow swore as the door opened. Thankfully though the woman on the other side was not Noel but rather it was Halibel--Isabelle, his mind supplied. In person she was just as stunning as she always had been, badass mask or no. But now dressed in a forest green dress she looked different. Her hair was pulled up again to reveal her features to their full extent. A wide belt encircled her narrow waist while the loose neck of the dress made him wonder if Byakuya Kuchiki was either blind or maybe he was batting for the other team. There really was absolutely no excuse for his lack of making a move on her. The two black suited men who stood behind her gave a quick sweep of the room and moved into the hallway. She sat down across from him in the chair that Mizuho had vacated.

"Nick, what happened?" she asked, the naked concern in her voice making his head spin.

"I'm not exactly sure."

"I know, Noel worried herself sick over you last night."

Grimmjow let out a harsh laugh. Apparently this new Nel was a far more devious character than he thought. Damn just when she was actually being attractive he had to go and fall head over heels for someone else. Isabelle's eyebrows knitted together in confusion at his reaction to the statement. Her face was so innocent, so _trusting_, so unlike the Halibel who would kick his ass without breaking a sweat that surprisingly Grimmjow felt--he felt _homesick_. He didn't know why he was still there and he didn't fucking care. He just wanted to go back to Soul Society where everything made sense. Where Nel was the happy-go-lucky green haired Tenth Division Lieutenant and Halibel was the Ninth Division Captain who made them all look like a joke. Hell he even missed Ulquiorra with his cool stare and biting remarks. God he was turning into such a softy.

"I doubt that," he said finally. One of Isabelle's eyebrows rose in confusion, "the bitch shot me."

"I was afraid of that," she said quietly, her teal eyes seeming to harden as she appeared finally a fraction like the Halibel he knew, "I assumed it might be a front for her father but I had hoped--" she sighed and touched a hand to her brow in a gesture he was beginning to think was common for her, "of course if anyone was to figure it out it would be her," she got to her feet, "well, no matter," she looked at him, "you're alive and that is what really matters."

Grimmjow didn't have the heart to tell her that wasn't really the case.

There was a gentle knock on the door. They both turned as a woman walked into the room.

Grimmjow stared.

It was Sun Sun.

Her hair was dark, not green but dark enough that it seemed to shine blue in the light. Her eyes were still unusually pale. Painted on her eyelids was the same shade of pink that had made the dots on her cheek. Slid into her hair was a three pointed clip that was so familiar it made it hard for Grimmjow not to smile at the familiar sight. The moment she closed the doors she began to twist her fingers round and round, her eyes sweeping along the length of the room as if she was looking for clues--or enemies.

Mizuho came in immediately behind her, closing the door and turning to them. She motioned for Grimmjow to come over to her. He did as quickly as his injured body would allow him to.

"That's Klytie "Kylie" Khurshid," Mizuho said, "she's a forensic scientist with us--she also happens to be Ms. Measures cousin," she looked at the two women who were talking quietly, "Ms. Measures is working for us but only a few people know that, Ms. Khurshid included."

"Act like myself, got it," he said turning to go. Mizuho grabbed him and turned him around.

"You are an _idiot_. I don't know how they act in your world but its a miracle that they haven't figured something out by now--its probably the fact that you've been shot and subsequently drugged," she crossed her arms, "this isn't going to work for long, we need to get them out of here before they start to put the pieces of the puzzle together."

"Am I interrupting something?" Patrick asked stepping into the room, his phone in his hand.

"Perfect timing," Mizuho said.

"Patrick," Isabelle got to her feet.

_Patrick_?

They were on a first name basis. Oh God, the _last_ thing that he needed was to find out that Ulquiorra and Halibel were sleeping together. It was bad enough that he was sleeping with Nel--who shot him--if the two of them were sleeping together things would be even more complicated. He was already probably going to get his ass kicked by Soifon and it wasn't like Renji was going to hit Nel, though she could probably take it, so he was going to have both of them coming after him. All he knew was that he had better be able to get Pantera before that happened or he was beyond screwed.

"Yawn," Mizuho ordered.

"Huh?" she slammed her foot onto his. Grimmjow let out the loudest, most dramatic yawn than he could.

The three of them looked at him.

"Well," Mizuho said, "despite your intentions of getting out of this hospital, I think you need to get back to bed."

Grimmjow glared at her but Mizuho returned the furious gesture tenfold. She clearly was not easily intimidated, though Grimmjow was beginning to wonder if he really was intimidating. After all, he could count on one hand the people who showed any sort of negative reaction when faced with the gesture. Maybe he was just surrounded by women who were too brave for their own good, no matter what world they were in. Kylie and Isabelle looked equally suspicious of leaving but Patrick seemed to sense that there was something going on.

"Yes, Nick needs to sleep," he cut in, "you two had better get out of here, something tells me Noel might be coming to visit. That would probably look--" he paused, "that would probably look bad for you."

"You'll keep us informed?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Of course," he said.

"Feel better," Isabelle said with a smile before she and Kylie turned and walked out.

"Well," Patrick said with a sigh, "as _loath_ as I am to do this, a friend has called in a favor and I have to go to teach a class."

Grimmjow tried not to look too shocked at the idea of Ulquiorra taking the time to teach another human being. The man had conned favors from everyone in Soul Society so he didn't have to teach the new recruits in the Second Division which he, predictably, called 'trash'. It seemed some habits did not die easily. In fact, if Grimmjow looked closer he could see the frustration in Patrick's eyes. Maybe he was just not quite as adept at saying 'no' as Ulquiorra was. Well he was technically a different person.

"Tell him to fuck off," Grimmjow snorted, "your best friend in the world just got shot, you've got an excuse."

"Oh? Do you mean like the time I had to give the excuse to my mother about the tattoo?" Patrick demanded, his emerald eyes narrowing.

"It's not my fault you picked a bat," Grimmjow snorted.

"Says the one with the panther on his shoulder," Patrick shot back.

"Hey! Pantera can eat Murcielago for breakfast!" Grimmjow said hotly.

"I'll see you later Nick," he said, rolling his eyes and walking out.

Grimmjow frowned and turned to Mizuho.

"Hold on, why wasn't he surprised? Does he know what Murcielago is?"

She gave no reply.

* * *

**And the plot thickens!  
**

**So the names of the Espada are based on the names that T.K. gave them all using those of architects and designers with the obvious exception of Neliel, Sun Sun and Dondochakka who have no one whose name they're based off of. **

**Klytie Khurshid translates to Sun Sun. **

**Please R&R! You all were awesome last chapter with the reviews and I love hearing from you all! Keep up the great reviewing!**


	28. Playing Cards

**Okay go to Kiephra's page to see an amazing pic that you'll understand at the end of the chapter!**

VioTanequil **you helped make a lot of happy people!**

**

* * *

**

Sun peaked over the horizon, blanketing Soul Society in a bright warm glow. In the Fifth Division, Captain Momo Hinamori moaned and rolled over, burying her face in the hard, cool planes of Hitsugaya's chest to hide from the sun. Somewhere above her thanks to their height difference and the fact she was using him as a pillow, Hitsugaya snorted and turned his head to the other side, his arms tightening around her warmer body.

The two had slept like that--with the exception of a few rough patches--for years, even when he had been the shorter of them. He had always looked far more eccentric than her though. Recently Hinamori had cut her hair off again, the chocolate locks barely reaching her features had matured somewhat but she still looked young, the serenity of sleep only smoothing the lines that appeared when she furrowed her brow. Her body was still petite; it was almost impossibly to believe that there had been a time when she was bigger than him. He on the other hand was tall and well muscled, his skin pale and cool despite the fact that he was very much alive. His white hair was trimmed but still completely unruly, something he had learned was just going to be. His features had matured as well, the last vestiges of boyhood finally gone from his appearance. The two spent far more time in the Fifth sleeping-wise. Hitsugaya trusted Matsumoto enough to be confident that she would not blow up the Division while he was asleep a few Divisions over. Ichigo on the other hand spent far more time at the Kuchiki Manor with his wife and their son. So Hinamori slept in the Division and Hitsugaya went with her.

After all, it was not as though he was going to let his wife sleep alone.

Hinamori had decided to keep her name instead of becoming Momo Hitsugaya mainly because probably the last thing their Divisions needed was to call out 'Captain Hitsugaya' and be faced with the two of them. Not to mention, Hitsugaya had always made such a fuss about being referred to as 'Captain Hitsugaya' that Hinamori imagined she would have felt odd to be called such a thing. At least _she_ got to call him Toshiro without any consequences. He and Gin still got into fights because Gin let everyone call him by his first name--that and the fact that he kept walking in on the Third Division Captain and his Lieutenant in compromising positions, something that the two of them saw absolutely nothing wrong with. Though Hitsugaya had repeatedly gone to the Fourth claiming he was now blind.

The hell butterfly flew through the parted window and alighted on Hitsugaya's nose. The white haired Captain screwed up his face and reached over, grabbing the black butterfly on his nose. One bright blue green eye peeped open and looked at the creature.

"Captain Hitsugaya, Captain Hinamori, your presence is requested at an emergency Captain meeting."

Hitsugaya released the butterfly and yawned widely, stretching his available arm over his head, the fingers of his other hand tightening on Hinamori's waist. She mumbled something incoherent and buried her face further in his chest.

"Momo we gotta get up," he mumbled, opening his other eye.

"I don't wanna," she groaned, her breath tickling his chest through the parted folds of his sleeping robe before she peeped open her violet and brown eyes, looking up at him, "do we have to?"

"Emergency meeting," he said.

Hinamori sighed. Shinji only called emergency meetings when it was a real emergency. She pushed herself up and rubbed at her eyes, looking around the room sleepily before she looked down at her husband. She liked using him as her pillow. Hitsugaya sighed and pushed himself up, throwing their height difference into sharp relief once more. His hand came around her waist as she leaned her head against his shoulder with a last sight of protest before she got to her feet. He was soon to follow as they set about getting dressed. Hinamori slid Tobiume into the sash around her waist as Hitsugaya slid the sash of Hyourinmaru around his shoulder. Even if he was more than tall enough to carry Hyourinmaru around his waist, Hyourinmaru wouldn't stand for it and Hitsugaya had learned a very long time ago to choose his fights with his irritable Zanpakuto Spirit.

The two of them stepped out of the room into the bright day. Hinamori shaded her eyes and gave a quick glance to the Division. It was quiet. Given how early it was she knew that was predictable but still, her Division was much quieter now that Grimmjow Jeagerjaques wasn't there to get into daily fights with Ichigo. Though parenthood had helped to mature her Lieutenant she had a feeling that he would still be just as willing to duke it out with his former nemesis. Hell Ryouichi or "Ichi" as he was affectionately known as, would probably be more than willing to cheer his father on.

Despite Rukia's positivity that she was having a girl, the two wound up with a boy instead. A boy with violent orange hair and bright amber eyes, Ichigo's little mini-me. Of course it was clear to see Rukia in his features, his eyes were Ichigo's color but they were just as doe-like as his mother, one of the many reasons he was so spoiled. Much like Kohaku, Ichi's favorite person in the world besides his parents was his Uncle Byakuya, though Uncle Ukitake was a close second thanks to the large amount of candy he snuck the boy. The little boy seemed to spend far more time in the Fifth, Thirteenth and Sixth Divisions than anywhere else. Given how differently people aged in Soul Society, the boy was still young enough to not even be able to hold a Zanpakuto properly.

It was hard to believe it had been decades since the former Espada had been thrown out of Soul Society.

Time had gone on, as time tended to do, but everyone could feel the gaps that had been left by the bright personalities that were no longer with them. Grimmjow longer wreaked havoc on everything he could. Ulquiorra's calm voice no longer said things with such disdain it had them laughing when they didn't even know they needed to. Halibel wasn't the bright, guiding presence that, after so many betrayals, the Ninth Division needed more than ever. Sun Sun wasn't there to tease Hisagi anymore than Dondochakka was there to play tag and destroy buildings that got in his way. Nel's bright, vibrant presence was a loss felt by all, far more acutely than anyone could have predicted--all their presence was. It was impossible to think that at some point they had all been enemies, even Nel in some way.

The two of them began the walk to the First Division. They walked despite the fact that they were more than capable of performing excellent _Shunpo_. Emergency or no, it was a safe bet that Shinji had rolled over in bed or fallen asleep at his desk for 'ten more minuets'. Shinji wasn't exactly a morning person. Hiyori would probably let him sleep for fifteen before she slapped him awake. They had a few minuets before all the Captains, Lieutenants and Orihime got there. Though not a Lieutenant, Orihime had become a Seated Officer in the Fourth Division achieving the Fourth Seat even though her healing was far more powerful than anything anyone else could do. Despite being neither a Lieutenant nor a Captain Orihime went to every meeting. She would be there without a doubt.

The two of them made it to the First Division and into the main meeting room.

"Mornin' Captain Shorty," Gin said with a smirk from where he was standing over with Byakuya, the two talking. He glared at Gin's grin as Matsumoto looked between them like an exasperated mother, "Monin' Captain Shorty's wife," he said to Hinamori.

The rest of the Captains and Lieutenant were talking, scattered around the room in no real formation. Orihime was laughing at something Renji had said. The Lieutenant/Substitute Captain-when-they-needed-it was running out of skin for the tattooist now. Like most of them aside from new hairstyles and battle scars the fact of the matter was that most of them looked the same. Kensei still wore his hair in the same shaggy style, the three piercings still in place. Mashiro was wearing the uniform of the Division but she wore it tight like her body suite, her sleeves tucked into the bright pink gloves that decorated her hands. She had left the Ninth Division to act as the Lieutenant of the Second Division while Hisagi remained the Lieutenant of the Ninth, finally working with his idol.

That, of course, had put the Ninth and the Sixth in staunch competition as to which Division had the sexiest male Captain/Lieutenant Duo. Most people were still creeped out by Gin and the fact that Matsumoto would kill them if they looked at him.

The doors slammed open as they all turned to face the Commander General.

Shinji had grown his hair out longer, now his gold locks fell past his shoulders. Hiyori had, on the other hand, shortened her hair and taken to wearing it in pigtails once again. The two looked like they belonged at each other's side, right down to the way she glared at the Captains and Shinji rubbed his nose from the most recent time she had slammed her foot into his nose. The Captains and Lieutenants quickly assembled into two neat lines as the Commander General and his Lieutenant walked to the front of the lines.

"Alright considering this is the day when you all get your newbies, the last thing you want is surprises. Of course if the world has taught us anything it is that bad shit is gonna happen today," he sighed, "we found them."

Murmurs immediately started up. There was no question who he was referring too. The King had said that they couldn't help the Espada on heir quest for redemption but he hadn't said anything about them looking for them. There were many people who fit the vague description of the Espada, Grimmjow alone had four doppelgangers in Spain while Ulquiorra had five Germans who could be his twin. Unfortunately none of them interacted with each other. Apparently though one of Ishida's contacts had found them.

"Mizuho called last night. Apparently she found them. We have dossiers on everyone so, lets make this quick so you can get to the torturing of your newbies," Shinji flicked his wrist, broadcasting a picture onto the screen.

On it was the image of Isabelle. She wore a scarlet ensemble, the neck low and the bodice sloping inwards to reveal the skin just below the curve of her breasts. The dress clung to her body as it sloped downwards, pooling to the ground in a curve of scarlet silk. Black gloves encased her hands and arms, up to just above her elbows. Her teal eyes were famed by her blond locks which fell past her shoulders. One of her ebony clad hands wrapped around the microphone that hovered close to her scarlet pained lips.

"Meet Habibah Isabelle Measures, known by Isabelle and, predictably, by the nickname Bell Bell or, just, Belle. Her great grandfather was an oil baron, her grandfather made the conversion to alternative energy. Isabelle happens to be a very talented singer, not that she's needed to work a day in her life. She happened to catch the attention of the Number 2 of the Winters Crime Syndicate who recently become her fiancé. With her money and breeding, the word is that he's going to make a play to take over the Crime Syndicate from his brother. Power shifts all the time so that's not that big a deal. However there is a problem. Isabelle is not one to be used, especially not by someone who hit her like he did. She's trying to get out."

He changed the picture to one of Kylie only now she was dressed in a lab coat. Her hair was pulled back, a pen stuck though the makeshift bun to secure it in place. She was standing in front of a desk full of tubes, obviously unaware that her picture had been taken.

"Meet forensic specialist Klytie Khurshid, a lifelong friend of Isabelle's. When Isabelle came for help she was the one who first got the proceedings going. She's a forensic scientist, specializes in crime scene analysis. But she knows people who are detectives. Unfortunately the case was far bigger than police jurisdiction. But that lead the two of them to this man."

He changed the picture. Orihime felt a smile come to her lips. Standing there was Ulquiorra. He was dressed in a suite, his black hair longer than she remembered it to be. He seemed somewhat embarrassed at being photographed, his hands shoved tightly into his pockets. His emerald eyes were bright behind a pair of glasses perched on his nose. She felt her smile widen. Ulquiorra wearing glasses was something she never thought she'd see. He was always adamant about seeing what was in front of him, apparently he was not able to do it without some help now.

"Patrick Schiffer, PhD in religious iconography. He's a consultant to several government organizations. He and Kylie met in school, tutoring each other through their respective disciplines and he knows a Isabelle a bit because he's a musician in his spare time himself. Don't be fooled by the nice picture though," he grinned and changed it to a different shot, one of him standing in front of a wicked looking car, "your boy, isn't exactly the nicest person in the world," he looked over at Orihime whose eyes widened, "he makes bank as a street racer and glorified smuggler of sorts. Technology has gone up so, most of the illegal activities go under the radar instead of over it. Patrick Schiffer happens to be very good at going very fast," he grinned, "car of choice happens to be a Murcielago, showing some things never change."

He shook his head at the looks. They had no idea what was coming.

"Which leaves our central two players," he turned the picture to Grimmjow.

He stood there with his blond hair in disarray, a motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm. He wore a leather jacket, the neck undone to reveal the white shirt he wore underneath along with his jeans. He leaned against a rather wicked looking motorcycle, a wicked grin on his lips. Soifon raised an eyebrow at the sight of him, wondering just how pissed off he was that his hair was blond instead of blue.

"Detective Nicholas Grimm," he said, "used to be honest except for some shady smuggling dealings helping Patrick. Then he got suckered in with the mob because of the glamorous lifestyle and heavy drugs--to which he happened to be addicted. He's a plant from the local cops to try to catch the head of the Winter's Crime Syndicate. Now he doesn't really know whose team he's on. The cops used his former shady dealings to make him look rather bad, despite the fact he's never been in jail or anything. But he looks good on a motorcycle and, according to Mizuho, naked which are the two weaknesses of my personal favorite of the bunch."

Finally her picture came up. The reactions were wide and varied but Renji choking on his own spit was by far the most amusing. Then again, he imagined the sight of Nel dressed in a short flimsy white dress and thigh high leather boots was enough to make anyone freeze up. Her blond hair cascaded over her shoulder as she glared at the camera, the twist of her soft lips an almost cruel joke to the wickedness that sparked in her translucent eyes.

"Say hello to the lovely Miss Noel Winters, the only daughter of the Winters Crime boss. There are not enough trees to print the list of crimes this girl has committed--not that she's been caught doing any of them. Isabelle's fiancé might want to take over the crime family but _this_ is his greatest obstacle. Oh and, uh, last night she shot Nick--killing him. Unfortunately when she killed him he swapped it with Grimmjow--" he sighed, "yes?" he demanded looking at Ichigo who had his hand up.

"Nel's the bad guy?"

"No you idiot! They are _all_ bad guys!" he said, "now according to the data Urahara has complied, there is apparently a delay from when the Soul is swapped and when it can leave the body. Given he was shot last night, though Grimmjow was saved he apparently is Grimmjow Jeagerjaques and not Nicholas Grimm. At this time we are unsure if there is a reason that the _King_ has decided to not tell us or if his soul needs to recover. Either way, he's stuck."

Ichigo opened his mouth.

"No," Shinji said, "you cannot go after him. As of right now there is nothing that any of us can do. I informed you of this because you all have connections to these people. But the fact remains you've all got work to do. Get to it. There's no telling when some other idiot's gonna come along and try to destroy us. I want Shinigami who can use their Zanpaktos without pissing themselves in fear. You're all dismissed! Oh Kensei--you're tutoring."

"What?! No!"

"Shut up and do it," Shinji said not taking his anger seriously, "its one day and you can shout things at them," Kensei opened his mouth angrily, "would you like to orient your newbies?" he raised an eyebrow, "a couple hundred idiots or two skilled kids who love to fight each other?"

"I'll be tutoring," Kensei muttered turning and walking out.

"Thought so," Shinji said turning around and looking down at Hiyori.

Hiyori crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow as she turned and looked up at him. She sighed and reached into her sleeve, pulling out the stopwatch and clicking it off. Shinji bent down and looked over at the stopwatch, studying the numbers on the dial.

"Nope," she said, "still haven't beaten your record with that much material."

"Damn," he sighed, "well I didn't put anyone to sleep either."

"And Ichigo raised his hand like a good boy."

"That guy's like a fucking puppy. I feel like I should give him a treat or something," he said.

"I'm sure he'd love that," Hiyori said sarcastically, "I've got newbies to abuse," she said with a sigh, "and you've got your two favorite people in the world waiting in your office."

"Oh fuck my life," Shinji groaned, "what'd those two idiots do now?" he looked down at Hiyori, "we'd better have a war soon. I'm startin' to feel like an over-glorified babysitter. I need to kill something."

"Join the club," she muttered.

"Don't kill any of the newbies! One of them might start a war."

"One can only hope."

* * *

The mask hit the ground with a wet sound.

His feet pounded the ground as Ryo jumped over an obstacle on the training course. He gasped, taking in as much air as he could as he continued his frantic dash. He couldn't breathe with the mask on. It might have been 'invaluable' to his safety but he figured the need to breath took precedence, that and the fact his opponent pursuing him would undoubtedly kick his ass if they caught him. The mask wasn't going to save all the bones in his body, or the bruises on his skin. The main thing was that he had to keep from being caught and to do that he had to breathe as best he could.

With a shout his adversary materialized out of nowhere, her foot coming clear over her head and carving a deadly, quick path through the air towards his face. She still wore the full face mask, her identity hidden behind the doll like porcelain features. He barely had time to block the blow before her other foot snapped out towards his neck. Her body turned with the blow, her foot arcing downwards to hit the outside of his knee, throwing him off balance before she landed on the ground triumphantly, her feet slamming into the ground with an audible noise.

"You're not supposed to use _Shunpo_!" Ryo cried, "that wasn't fair!"

"Boo hoo! Why don't you go cry to your mommy huh?!"

"Shut up Aoi!" he shouted.

"That's enough you two!" Kensei roared.

He had been roped into being the 'special tutor' for the two genius children because Mashiro was off orienting the new members in her division. As the current Vice Captain of the Second Division, she was doing the same thing Hisagi was which, unfortunately left him in charge of the two kids. Frankly he would have preferred to be stuck with the newbie idiots his Division was forced to deal with. Usually Hisagi broke them in before he had to deal with them in anything but a 'shut up and do your fucking job' way. Hisagi seemed to be just as good as Mashiro at breaking in the newbies before they got anyone killed. Kensei walked over to the two. He had agreed to do it because he figured that dealing with two snot nosed kids--one who was a wimp and one who was homicidal--was probably better than dealing with a lot of them.

He walked over to the girl and ripped the mask off her face. She glared at him and then at the Ryo with the same anger and I'll-fuck-you-up-punk rebelliousness despite the fact she barely came up to his hip. Her grey eyes were sharp and intelligent, much older than the rest of her. Her hair was bright blue and pulled into two pig tails, secured with white ribbons tied in bows that seemed almost uncharacteristically girly. Ryo was small as well and the spitting image of his father, right down to the angry look in his amber eyes when he stared at his adversary. Aoi turned and stuck her tongue out at him before turning back to their teacher. Kensei wondered if he could kill himself with something readily available.

"You!" he turned to Ryo, "your father is the biggest idiot in the world! He charges into any fight without a thought to the consequences and you're running from a _girl_! Forget a girl--you're running from the enemy! You don't freakin run! You turn and you kick ass!"

He turned on Aoi.

"And you!" he roared, "don't toy with the enemy. You had him and you just let him freaking run! Don't let them run. When you have them, finish the fight. You never know if there's gonna be another fight after that. Save your energy."

"Yes Captain Muguruma," they both chorused.

"Go home you two," he said, "I think anymore of watching you two run around like this and I'm gonna be sick. Oh and Mashiro told me to tell you you're gonna be tested tomorrow on some kind of book you're supposed to be reading. So read it or she's gonna find a way to blame me and you'd better believe you're both gonna be running from me then."

"Yes, Captain Muguruma," they said turning around.

"You coming for dinner?" Aoi asked.

"No," Ryo muttered with a sigh, "mom's trying to cook again."

"Sucks to be you," Aoi grinned, "mom's making stir fry."

"No fair! We've _got_ a cook. Mom's just being crazy," he sighed, "I'll see you with Auntie Momo tomorrow."

"Bye!"

Aoi turned and raced towards home as fast as her legs would take her. She knew her mom hated it when she was late for dinner. They both got hungry quickly because of their Spiritual Powers so it made sense. She was able to use some _Shunpo_ but she still wasn't good enough to use it to get all the way home. She swerved in and out of people, waving to them as she raced towards her home on the other side of the Court of Pure Souls. She understood why they had to train at the Captain of the Day's Division but she far preferred it when they got to train at the Fifth or the Second--especially the Second. She didn't have as far to go as Ryo though. He had to make it all the way back to the Kuchiki Manor.

She shot through the main doorway and raced past the few people sparring in the courtyards. They kicked up dust showing today had been one of the days when the newbies came and were put through their paces. A few of them gave her odd looks, revealing their newness while the older members smiled and waved. She waved back but didn't stop as she ran up the stairs to the Captain's quarters. She grabbed the key around her neck and pushed it into the lock, turning it and releasing the smallest bit of Spiritual Pressure to get the tumblers to turn. Immediately the smell of her mother's cooking hit her.

"Mommy, I'm home!"

* * *

**Oh yes. What you're thinking is true. Now go look at the picture Kiephra drew.**

**On a separate note, poor Shinji's bored. Well this should liven things up some huh?**

**And if you've read the latest spoilers I'm giving virtual cookies out. cookies and hugs.**

**Oh and another fic with GrimmFon! On my page, its called Terebellum and its a fantasy story. But I owed someone a favor. RenjiNel is probably going to be in it too--basically if you like the pairings in this fic, go check that one out. **

**R&R please! Go green, the button's down there!  
**


	29. Queen of Wands

**ENCHANTABLE'S EASY GUIDE TO LOOKING AT FANART!**

**1. go to Enchantable's profile.**

**2. click homepage**

**3. welcome to DeviantArt!**

**4. go to favorites**

**5. click on favorites**

**6. on left there is a folder labeled fanart**

**7. click fanart**

**8. Welcome to Fanart!**

**I don't organize my fanart past putting it one folder so there's stuff there for a bunch of stories. The latest one for this is of Hitsugaya and Hinamori getting married by Dwellin. Its beyond gorgeous and even if you don't like the couple you should go look at it.**

**Big thank you to **VioTanquil **who got this chapter out in record time!**

* * *

"Aoi!"

Aoi groaned and rolled over, protesting the shout of her name. Soifon sighed and walked into the bedroom where her daughter was sound asleep, the crown of her blue hair the only indication that she was in the mess of blankets. Soifon seized the edge of the comforter and, with a quick snap of her wrist, drew it off Aoi's body. Grey eyes remained closed as she rolled over.

"I'm sick," she protested.

"Really?" Soifon arched an eyebrow, "you seemed fine when you went to bed last night."

"I'm sick now," Aoi whined peering one grey eye open in fake misery. Soifon sighed and put her hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow in her direction. Aoi squirmed under the scrutiny before she sighed, "well I could be sick! Just because you and daddy don't get sick doesn't mean I couldn't!"

"Teeth, now," Soifon said pointing at the bathroom.

She watched her daughter slouch off with an odd mix of emotions that always seemed to come up where Aoi was concerned. By human years, Aoi was near thirty but in Soul Society she wasn't even old enough to go into the academy. She had been a bit of a mess when Grimmjow disappeared, though she tried to hide it. Unfortunately when she fainted during a training mission she had woken from her utterly shameful episode to find herself in the Fourth Division and Unohana standing there with an explanation. Though the word 'hormones' was not the explanation she was looking for, the cause of such things was far worse. It was impossibly to deny the physical aspect of her relationship with Grimmjow but to think she was carrying a _child_? It was ridiculous and stupid and thinking those things changed nothing. A handful of months later she was holding a bundle of blue haired baby and wondering what the hell she was supposed to do with it.

As it turned out, she was supposed to raise it. She had risen to challenges before. Leaving the servitude of the Fon family, becoming the Captain of the Second Division, working with a woman who she had wanted to arrest for her deeds--and she had risen to the challenge of being a mother. Now she had a devious daughter who enjoyed beating up Ichigo's child and considered her and Hiyori the two strongest women in the world. Soifon watched as Aoi darted back into the room, throwing on her smaller than usual Shinigami uniform and tying her hair into her standard pigtails. She kept talking about getting hair like Soifon's but Soifon had put her foot down. Aoi had strange enough hair without adopting a unique style like hers. Aoi's grey eyes found the clock and widened in surprise.

"Oh no!" she shrieked, "I'm gonna be late! Books! I need my--" Soifon held out a carrying case, "Thanks mom!" she grabbed the case, kissed Soifon's cheek and took off, "Love you mom!"

"Love you too!" Soifon called after her daughter as she raced towards her lessons.

Soifon watched her run off. She took a deep breath as she heard the door slam shut, her eyes closing. Last night had not been easy. She had barely slept a wink, haunted by the blond man with the devilish grin. He remembered them now--he remembered _her_ and she was not sure how to feel about that. If she had been the same fierce, cold woman who he had fallen for, maybe it would be easy. But she was different now. Though she was not soft or happy or even that different, she _had_ changed. He didn't know about the daughter they shared. It was so horribly cliche that she had no idea how to deal with it. What was she supposed to say when he found his way back to Soul Society? Her eyes drifted over to the nightstand where a handful of pictures rested.

The one closest to her was of her and Grimmjow at Ichigo and Rukia's wedding. They were both dressed nicely, her in that dark purple dress and he in his robes. Neither had been aware of the picture being taken. She was standing against the wall, her arms crossed as she glared up at him, a faint twist to her lips. He was looking down at her, his arm against the wall near her body, his grin a sharp contrast to her own smaller smile. Anyone with eyes could tell Aoi was Grimmjow Jeagerjaques's daughter; even _Aoi_ knew. She had pried every detail of her father from Soifon, though in hindsight Soifon realized that mentioning his rivalry with Ichigo might have not been the best idea in the world. Her daughter had picked up on it rather quickly and Ryo was far too happy to go in with that rivalry. Thankfully it was a good natured one, she didn't know what she'd do if one day they decided to really go at it.

Unfortunately the rivalry between her daughter and that of Ichigo Kurosaki's son was not the only one going on in Soul Society. Boredom had a way of skewing things and this was no different. Perhaps it was the tattoos or maybe it was the fact that they were both male-heavy Divisions now but whatever reason the Sixth and the Ninth Divisions had declared a war on each other. Kensei and Byakuya ignored it but Renji and Hisagi seemed all too happy to compare tattoos, scars and divisions the second they got a few drinks in them which, now that Matsumoto was back, was quite often. Things were not helped by their Fifth Seats either.

"Gods know I think this rivalry between your divisions is bullshit but at least it stays with girls. Or it did, until you two idiots came along! Tell me, _exactly_ why I shouldn't feed you to Komamura?"

"Because Captain Komamura doesn't eat people?"

Shinji looked at the snickering men in front of him, wondering if their mothers would be really all that upset if they didn't come home. To his right was Kohaku Shihouin, Heir Apparent to the House Shihouin. More than likely he would go to the Second Division someday--on the off off chance he could learn to keep his mouth shut long enough to learn stealth. He was older now, his blond hair as messy and overly long as his fathers. His amber eyes were as bright as when he was young. Encircling his upper arm, revealed by the sleeveless uniform he wore, was a massive tattoo of a dragon. Somewhere in the flames that spiraled out of its mouth was a 69, something that had become the moniker for the Ninth Division of which Kohaku was the proud Fifth Seat.

Death suited Oscar rather well. He aged at a normal rate, looking about the same age as Kohaku did now. He too had matured both in power and in appearance. The rumor was that Byakuya had accepted him into the ranks of the Sixth Division because Oscar was related to him--though distantly--and the last thing they needed in the world was more embarrassment on the Kuchiki name because his sister decided to marry Ichigo. Oscar had proven himself to be well suited to the Division, toeing the fine line between its eccentric Lieutenant and its uptight Captain, even if he did call him Uncle Byakuya occasionally. Much like his best friend he was the Fifth Seat of the Division.

Given the revelations of recent, Shinji had a feeling that the two of them were going to be needed far more. He had been worried that Sun Sun's less high power as an Arrancar might have prevented her from being allowed the same chance but there she was along with the rest of them--which meant Hisagi was probably going to be wrapped up in that. The Sixth was probably going to be completely useless. Halibel in that scarlet dress was bad enough for poor Byakuya who still wasn't admitting harboring anything past respect for the ex-Espada. But he had a feeling the worst was going to be for Renji. Nel had never been shy about the physical aspect of her relationship with the ruby haired Lieutenant but there was a difference between that and Nel in thigh high leather boots.

"Normally I would make you all clean that mess up _and_ convince Komamura that humans are tasty but given the unfortunately real prospect of your Division superiors becoming, well, useless, you two can just go back--"

"Sweet!"

"And be disciplined by your superiors."

"No!" they both cried at the same time, "discipline us! Please!"

"You know how the Captain gets when girls are involved!" Oscar cried, "he's going to _kill_ me!"

"Yeah! The newbies are still new enough that my Captain's really not in a good mood. I mean I could 'cat' it or go hide behind Auntie Nemu but, uh, its not gonna be fun either way."

"All valid points," he said, "All things you should've thought about before destroying those buildings. Now _go_!"

The two slouched off. Shinji sighed and leaned back in his chair. He used to be able to get in trouble like them but now he had to be the Commander General. It was still odd to think that he held such a position, even though he had been in charge of everything from rag tag groups to formal Divisions. The sound of a door opening didn't sway him as orderly steps announced the people he had requested to see. Three people walked in. Shinji opened his eye to see Byakuya, Renji and Hisagi standing in front of his desk. He sat forward and looked at the three of them.

"You three," Shinji looked at Byakuya, Hisagi and Renji, "You're going to the transient world."

"Huh?! Why?!"

"We can't help them, but I'm not going to leave a Captain, three Vice Captains and two Seated Officers alone. You're going with Hisagi to make sure things go fine. You will say _nothing _about this world, who you are or any of that. As it turns out, Mr. Winters is about to receive a shipload of drugs from Japan."

He held up a picture of a businessman who bore a striking resemblance to Byakuya, right down to the haughty eyes.

"It seems this man has just been assassinated. Captain Kuchiki, you're going to be him because finding men with sticks as far up their asses as this guy is rather impossible," he looked at Renji, "you're going to be his assistant."

"His what?!" Renji demanded.

"His assistant, like its a stretch," he snorted, "And Hisagi, you're going to be a low level drug trafficker, you can pull off the part. You also get to interact with Sun Sun."

The three of them gaped at him.

"You three are going to be useless anyway," he said, "you two are openly in love and you--" he shook his head, "don't get me started on you. Get ready, discipline Oscar and Kohaku and then you're off to face the girls," they started at him, "go."

The three men stared at him like he had grown a second head. Shinji met their gaze squarely before they turned and filed out. The second they were outside, Renji groaned and pressed his hand to his forehead. Byakuya looked at him blankly while Hisagi gave him a sympathetic glance. Byakuya looked between the two of them.

"Abarai, _what_ is wrong with you?" he demanded looking at his Lieutenant.

"Oh shut up! You're girlfriend isn't wearing thigh high leather boots!"

"I fail to see how that is an issue, Abarai," Byakuya said coolly.

"Yeah, you would," Gin snorted, falling in line with the group of them. Byakuya looked puzzled, "only you could have a girl who walked around with half her breasts hanging out look at you like Halibel did and _not_ make a move."

"I do not see how her breasts should influence my feelings towards her," Byakuya said coolly.

"Oh you poor, sheltered rich boy," Gin said with a dramatic sigh, "that would explain so, so much about you and your 'relationship' with our dear Halibel."

"Captain Halibel and I are fellow Captains and comrades, nothing more."

The three men laughed as if he had just said something truly amusing.

Byakuya failed to see their point.

* * *

The sealed bag landed on the desk in front of her with a loud echo. Kylie whipped her head around to see a less than pleased looking Patrick staring down at her, his emerald eyes anything but their usual calm. She sighed and picked up the bag, turning the plastic over with careful hands. Inside was what appeared to be a man's jacket. She frowned and looked up at Patrick.

"There's a drug on that jacket," he said, "I need to know what it is."

"Alright," she said picking up the jacket.

"Kylie, you have to keep her away from Nick," Patrick said leaning forward. Kylie looked over at him, "Noel's gonna be watching him like a hawk now."

"You know I don't have any control over where she goes," Kylie said opening the jacket and beginning to swab it, "If I did, we wouldn't be in this mess," she sighed with a shake of her head.

"Kylie, I'm serious," he said, "She's in enough danger as it is. I don't want anyone else to get hurt in this mess."

Kylie sighed and looked at the jacket in her latex covered fingers. She had told Isabelle that he was a bad idea the moment he walked into the club she was singing at. But she had done, as she usually did, whatever the hell she wanted to do. So now they were in the middle of something they had no business being in. If only Isabelle knew the effect she had on men. Noel was perfectly aware of it, she knew how to use it to her advantage. Isabelle didn't. If she did Kylie had a feeling she'd be as unstoppable as the blond woman.

"Did Nick seem, well, different to you?" she asked.

"Yes," Patrick answered instantly, "that's why I want to know what he's on."

She nodded.

"So," she said deftly changing the subject, "I heard you were teaching today," Patrick's emerald eyes narrowed furiously, "that stupid huh?" she asked with a smile.

"The trash they let into that school now is disgusting," he said.

"You're just mad because they didn't like you," she said with a smile as she sealed the bag up again. He glared coldly, "you know if you smiled more they'd like you more."

"If I had any interest in securing a teaching position, I would take that advice to heart. As it is, though I am paid for many things, my smile is not one of them."

Kylie smiled as she stood up.

"Oh, and the Commissioner wants to talk to us about the situation with Ms. Winters, according to Ms. Measures it seems that there is going to be a drug trafficker coming to the house, we have to make sure Nick's ready."

Patrick said nothing but privately he did not think there was a force on this earth would have Nick be ready for Noel after she shot him.

Unfortunately, that was the least of their worries.

"How the _fuck_ is he still alive?!"

Keoni glanced upwards from the paper he was reading. Noel strode across the room, pacing like a caged animal. It was early in the morning, apparently the news had been delayed probably because of fear of her reaction. Dressed in a slip of navy silk and creme lace, she was the perfect cross between angel and demon as she strode across the hardwood floor of her bedroom. Keoni was one of the few to be granted the honor of entering the bedroom without the promise of a lot of pain--he also happened to be missing out on a lot of pleasure but he was more than capable of dealing with that. Noel spun around, her blond hair fanning out to follow the furious movement.

"I _shot_ him. I though those idiots would be more than capable of finishing off a shot man."

"According to the doctors, they did," he said lowering the paper, "it just happens that the doctors brought him back."

Her fists clenched furiously at her sides as she glared at him before turning around and walking over to the wardrobe. Without a glance in his direction she pulled open the bottom drawer of her dresser and pulled out a pair of lace topped stockings. Practiced motions slid the sheer material up the length of her crème leg, first right then left before she pulled the silk slip over her head. Keoni ignored the sight that many would kill to see as she pulled on pale yellow lace that had her looking deceptively innocent. It was a role, just as much as any other she played and the silky crème colored dress she pulled over her head was just another prop. The dress was not too low, the sleeves came almost to her elbows and the knee length skirt fanned out thanks to the petticoat underneath. A pair of pale pumps completed the ensemble as Noel sat at her vanity and set about making her eyes look deceptively large and innocent. Pale rose adorned her lips in a trade from her usual sharp pink. A handful of delicate gold jewelry completed the lie before she stood up and examined her final result.

"May I caution against this?" Keoni suggested, "Perhaps visiting him so soon is a bad idea--"

"If I don't visit him, my father will think I had something to do with this. The last thing I want is for him to think I lost control. Not with him so close to death."

The practicality with which she stated such a thing was yet another thing that Keoni was accustomed to when it came to Noel. Since the relatively young age when she had learned what her family did, Noel had found that her gender would prevent her from taking her place as the Head of the Family. So she had set out to change things, learning to become a leader of an international Crime Syndicate. She did not want to become the best leader for them; she wanted to be the _only_ person that her father would even consider to name his heir. It was tradition that bound her and tradition she was going to change. Unfortunately, the fact of the matter was tradition and experience were against her; in fact they were in favor of her Uncle. Keoni knew that Noel would stop at nothing to see that _she_ was the head of the family and not her Uncle, but by the same token, he would do anything to ensure that he was the one at the head.

And so the greatest power struggle in the criminal underworld in the last fifty years was underway.

Straightening up, Noel brushed her hands down on her skirt and walked out of the room. Keoni sighed and stood up, following her out of the room as her bodyguard, advisor and probably her closest friend in the world. Now the two of them were going to the hospital in what was probably the most foolish idea in the past fifty years. Even so, Noel had made up her mind and when she did, the rest of the world either got in line or got out of the way.

Keoni preferred to do the first option.

* * *

**Keoni is a hawaiian name associated with Tiki masks of which Dondochakka has one. Thus, Keoni is Dondochakka!**

**Please review! We were doing so well a couple chapters back, come out of the shadows and click that green button! You anonymous people, I accept those reviews too! Click the button, you don't even have to have an account.**

**Oh and Renji/Nel and Grimm/Soi appear in Terebellum. Especially Renji/Nel because there aren't enough fics out there about them. **

**Updates soon. **


	30. Knight of Pentacles

**Okay we've got new fanart!!**

**Dwellin whose BEYOND amazing drew three fantastic pieces. **

**Two are of Aoi and Ryo in the scene below being told about Momo's wedding to Hitsugaya. She also did the wedding picture. Even if you don't like HitsuHina (and I know some of you don't) still go and look at the pictures or go and tell Dwellin she's beyond amazing.**

**The other one is a montage of Hisagi/Sun Sun. She's done similar ones of GrimmSoi and Ulquihime so this is in good company. She really contrasts them well and the picture is beyond beautiful. **

**I'll remind you when the time comes but don't forget that Dwellin and Airumel both latched on to the ByakuyaHalibel pairing before I had even made them truly romantic and did very sweet scenes that will be coming up later. Also Kiephra did the gorgeous picture of the newly incarnate Espada that captures them perfectly.**

**Um, I think that's it. As always I had the fanart guide a couple chapters ago but if you go to my profile its my DeviantArt page (I'm vrennavrien there) and if you go to favorites there's a folder with fanart. Now there's fanart for a lot of my stories there because I'm disorganized but click around as you would like. **

VioTanequil **is my awesome AWESOME beta who got this done in like ten seconds.**

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* * *

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If there was one part of her job Hinamori truly never disliked, it was the babysitting aspect of it. She adored Aoi and Ryo and seeing how Grimmjow was not there, she had given them domain over his desk. The endless supply of writing tools she stuffed in there because he was always snapping brushes in anger had been replaced with crayons and technicolor things for the kids to entertain themselves, though if they had found him she was probably going to have to move another desk in there once he returned. Aoi and Ryo, though decent at sharing with each other, were rather bad at sharing with anyone else. Hinamori figured it was something they had to work on. But not now.

"Hey, Auntie Momo?" Hinamori turned her head to see Ryo peering over her desk, "How come you're not all in white?"

Hinamori followed his gaze to the framed photo he was looking at, her face breaking into the smile she always wore when she looked at the picture even after the years it had been since the event happened.

It was her wedding picture.

She had many but the one on her desk was her favorite. She and Hitsugaya had gotten married in the house they both grew up in, though their grandmother was long since gone. All of Soul Society it seemed had came out on that day to celebrate with them, despite their intention to sneak out and do it quietly. Of course Matsumoto found a way to deal with that and before she knew it Hinamori's simple sundress had been swapped out for a long silk creation with a wide bright peach colored sash around the empire waist. She had never felt more like a Princess in her entire life. So her little wedding had turned into the most spectacular and simultaneously nerve wracking event. Having been around such notoriety for so long, the two of them were still not used to being the center of attention and when the unfortunate even occurred neither was enamored of it.

"Well," Hinamori said, "That was Auntie Ran's fault," she explained.

"Everyone says that," Aoi said coming over.

"Was Captain Hitsugaya nervous marrying you?" Ryo asked looking at her.

Hinamori smiled and leaned closer.

"He was so nervous he put my wedding ring on the wrong hand," she said. The kids traded looks, disbelief on their features that the great Captain Hitsugaya would mess something up like that, "but it was alright in the end," Hinamori said with a smile, "we fixed it."

"Did you have to marry him again?" Ryo asked.

"No," Hinamori said smiling, "I would have though."

"I think Uncle Byakuya would've killed Daddy if he had to watch him marry Mommy again," Ryo said looking at the picture and then at her, "unless Mommy wanted too. Uncle Byakuya does what Mommy wants."

"That's because Uncle Byakuya is a very smart man," Hinamori said.

"Do you think he'll do what Captain Halibel wants when she gets back? Because Uncle Gin said that he's got no spine when it comes to women."

"Perhaps you should keep that between you and Uncle Gin," Hinamori suggested, her eyes moving to the unusually silent blue haired girl.

Aoi was looking at the picture, but the look in her grey eyes revealed her mind was anywhere but their current situation. Hinamori knew the blue-haired girl wouldn't tell her anything. Aoi was much like her parents in that respect. She was better at letting people in, to a degree, but not when it came to what she viewed as 'weakness' and what the rest of the world viewed as emotion. Her features were hard as she looked at the picture, her grey eyes almost pensive as they looked at the happy couple. Hinamori saw her brows knit together, her bottom lip catching in between her teeth for a moment before she released it and looked up at Hinamori for a moment before looking back at the picture.

"Why hasn't daddy come back yet?" she asked finally, "he remembers right? Why isn't he back yet? I thought that's what the King wanted, was for him to finish."

"Well maybe--" Hinamori struggled for a moment, "maybe he's got more he has to do."

"Well it's not fair!" came the reply, "mommy's got those dark circles under her eyes now and I want to know why he can't come home."

"Why don't you just go get him?" Ryo asked with the innocence that came with youth.

Aoi and Hinamori stared at the orange haired boy. He looked at them as if he had said something as simple as 'the sky looks blue' or 'Uncle Byakuya misses Halibel.' From the lack of retort from Aoi, Hinamori had a horrible feeling that Aoi was seriously considering going after him. She looked at the girl, painfully aware of the fact that she was nearing the age when she would go off to the Academy. She remembered the days when the two of them could barely hold onto crayons, now they were growing up so fast. Still, Hinamori knew that if Aoi went traipsing off to the transient world to find her father it was highly likely that Grimmjow would keel over out of shock and Soifon would kill anyone who got in her way.

"I have to go," Aoi said suddenly.

"Aoi," Hinamori began.

"I'll be fine," she said disappearing without so much as another word. She was as quick and silent as her mother in that regard.

Outside Aoi made a beeline for the Second Division. She had to get home and then she had to get--

Voices pulled her out of her half-thought plan. Peering around the corner she saw two men walking past and immediately flattened herself against the building, wishing her cheeks weren't quite so hot. Hopefully they hadn't seen her. She didn't know what she'd do if they saw her with her face so red. But they were still coming closer, exchanging insults and retorts with long familiarity.

"This is the Ninth Division, we don't believe in sleeves," Kohaku said easily.

"You're an idiot! What happens if you fight someone when its cold out huh? Or if they use ice?" Oscar demanded.

"You're the idiot. We don't let them attack us. We kill them."

"Like I said, idiot," Oscar said.

"Yeah, right--hey Aoi! Tell him I'm right."

Aoi felt her cheeks heat up even further as she looked to see the two of them a foot away, both looking at her. Her eyes immediately found Kohaku with his bright amber eyes and easy grin. The Elders had clearly gotten involved because his hair was shorter though still just as unruly as ever. If he noticed she was bright red he didn't say anything. _Why_ did she have to have blue hair? If her hair was orange maybe her blush wouldn't be quite so obvious.

"I--" she gathered her tattered dignity and drew herself up, "you'd just turn into a cat and run away," she said finally.

Shock shown in his amber eyes before Oscar doubled over laughing. Kohaku's grin came back as he looked at her.

"Hey, gotta use what I got right?"

_Use what I got_

Aoi's eyes widened before she ran over, shoving her embarrassment down.

"I need your help," she said.

"Sure," he said instantly, "what do you need?"

"I need a gigai."

* * *

Kylie was running horribly late. Her shoes slapped the ground as she ran, wondering why she had decided to wear backless shoes today of all days. Though the elevator let her out on a high floor, she ran up the last two flights of stairs, figuring breathlessness would make her lateness look like she was sorry for it. She swiped her card, keyed in her code and hurried into the lobby of the office. She raced past the newest group of delinquents waiting to be booked. She prayed none of them were going to become her problem, she had a feeling one of them was. With her luck that one with the 69 tattooed blatantly on his cheekbone was. She got within a finger's breath of her office, so very _very_ close to home when--

"Khurshid!" she froze at the bark of her name, "this one's your problem!"

Kylie winced and turned to see Mr. 69 being led into one of the interrogation rooms.

"He's a low level dealer and smuggler but he recognized Dr. Schiffer so find out what he knows."

"Sir, I am a forensic specialist--"

"He recognized you, Ms. Measures, Detective Grimm and Ms. Winters--of course I don't think that the last one should matter. Since Detective Grimm and Dr. Schiffer are MIA, you're the only one I've got here working this case. Go in and find out why the fuck he thinks your name is Sun Sun."

"That is my name," she grumbled pushing open the door, "oh you have got to be joking," she groaned looking at him.

The guy looked like a regular punk. Tight pants encased his legs leading up to a dark sleeveless shirt. A thick band encircled his arm while an identical choker snaked around his throat. A mop of unruly dark hair was beyond fitting for his appearance. Three lines slashed down the side of his face while two tattoos, one a stripe, the other a 69, decorated his opposite cheek. When his eyes locked with hers Kylie felt oddly put off at the way he watched her with a hawk-like intensity. While she hated dealing with drug dealers the only thing she possibly hated more was dealing with unpredictable ones. Thankfully the narrow metal bands around his wrists made sure that he was put in check.

"Mr. Hisagi," she said glancing at the paper in front of her that held his name, "you seem to know a lot for a low level drug dealer."

Hisagi was having trouble speaking at the moment. It was one thing to see a photograph, it was quite another to see her blazing past him with that frantic 'oh-I-am-beyond-late/screwed' look in her eyes. She had used that running thing before in the Division and for some reason their Captain who saw through _everything_ missed that--that and Byakuya Kuchiki's bullshit. But now he was alone in a room with her. She didn't have the long scar under her eye or a hair clip like always. But from the way her fingers were drumming against the edges of the paper, he knew that she was actually a bit offput by the whole situation. Honestly he hadn't meant for things to go like this. Just that when he saw the pictures he told them what Shinji had told the rest of them. The next thing he knew he was in a dark room with a very bright light and Sun Sun--or the person Sun Sun was supposed to be.

"Why are you smiling?" she demanded suddenly, her voice holding the barest edges of fear.

Hisagi felt it then. He had not even realized he was smiling. It had been thirty years since she had vanished and while he knew the other Espada were guaranteed a second chance, there had always been the creeping sort of fear that she had not. That Sun Sun had just been caste off into eternity. But she was standing right _there_, looking at him with the same nervousness she had the moment she walked into the Ninth Division to discover he was her superior. He quickly tried to mask his joy at seeing her alive, knowing he was probably scaring her.

"Sorry," he ducked his head.

"How did you know the translation of my name?" she asked finally, "no-one's called me Sun Sun since I was a little girl."

"I, uh--" he stopped, trying to figure out a way to get out of this mess, "I'm good with languages," he said finally.

She examined him coolly before opening her mouth and speaking in a dialect he had never heard in his entire life. He gaped at her before she closed her mouth and looked at him, obviously waiting for him to say something.

"Just a few words," he said finally.

"Clearly you are terrible with languages," she said, "just as you are clearly not a low level drug dealer. So why don't you tell me who you ar--"

"He's with me."

Hisagi turned his head to see Grimmjow standing there, obviously less than thrilled to see him there. Kylie's eyes narrowed as she looked at the blond man and then at Hisagi. Undeterred Grimmjow strode into the room and walked over to where Hisagi was sitting chained up. He looked at Kylie with the disgustingly familiar grin to which she responded with her fingers tightening, her eyes hardening as if he was the biggest idiot in the world. It seemed that some things never truly changed.

"Its alright, you can come out of there. Detective Grimm will take over."

She nodded, sparing a glance at Grimmjow before walking out and closing the door. Hisagi watched her leave, unable to move his eyes from her. He did not get the opportunity to linger as Grimmjow strode over to him. Hisagi was struggling not to loose it completely. But the idea of a blond, good-guy Grimmjow was just one he was having trouble stomaching. Especially when it was standing right next to him, eyes promising all kinds of pain.

"What the hell took you so long?" Grimmjow demanded, "why the hell am I not out of this place yet?"

"I have no idea!" Hisagi said, "we're supposed to help you--"

"We?"

"Me, Byakuya and Renji," he said.

"We gotta go," Grimmjow said bending down and unshackling his wrists, "come on."

"Huh? Why?" Hisagi demanded.

"Nel's going to eat Renji alive," Grimmjow said, "come on, we have to get over there now."

"Can you--"

"Damn it just move!"

Fifteen minuets later Hisagi stumbled out of the car and vowed he was never entering a moving vehicle with Grimmjow driving. Ahead of them a sleek black car was powering down. Hisagi stared as a pair of long legs clad in dark pants slipped out of the car followed by the rest of the woman who was now Neliel. All Hisagi could think was that it was lucky she wasn't usually dressed like that. The dark pants were low and offset by the corset-style top that hugged her form. A pale coffee-colored sweater in her hands hid the top seamlessly as she walked up the stones to the path, her shoes clicking on the stone before she keyed an access code and stepped inside. He turned his head to Grimmjow.

"That was--" he began.

"We gotta get inside," Grimmjow said angrily shoving himself out of the car, "come on--"

"Nick!"

Hisagi froze and spun around to see another figure hurrying towards them. Dressed in a far more conservative ensemble it was shocking to see Halibel looking as she did, even if he knew his Captain would die before she was seen in this woman's clothing. Her coffee colored pants were tucked into a pair of leather boots, a dark leather jacket open enough to see the white shirt and pale orange scarf looped around her neck. Her blond hair was caught up in a clip, revealing the lightening bolt earrings that pierced her lobes. Her eyes moved over him in nothing more than a passing glance before she focused on Grimmjow.

"I came as soon as I could," she said breathlessly.

"You're not a part of this little meet and greet?" Grimmjow demanded, "aren't you a trophy wife?"

"Trophy fiancée," she retorted pulling a ring out of her pocket and slipping it on before she turned to Hisagi, "and you are?"

"Hisagi," Grimmjow said instantly, "he's with us."

She nodded, seeming to trust his words before she walked past them to the door. Grimmjow motioned him to follow and they walked with her. She keyed in her code easily and stepped inside. Hisagi followed her and felt his jaw come close to the ground at the virtual palace he found himself in.

The extravagance of Soul Society was a carefully hidden thing, especially the kind of extravagance that came with the Shinigami. But this, this was a completely difference kind of animal. It was as if someone had decided to make a place where someone would be so intimidated that they wouldn't be able to focus properly. It was working rather well as Hisagi tried not to twist his head to get a better view of the fountain that bubbled to his right or the sculpture of delicate spun glass that seemed to glow to his left. Even Grimmjow seemed impressed, though he hid it behind a veil of thinly disguised disgust.

Voices were the next thing they heard. Byakuya's low, cool murmur was unmistakable, though the voice that answered him was one Hisagi didn't recognize. Two men were leaning deceptively against the wall. He knew enough to guess their folded hands were concealing weapons and immediately wished for the comfort of Kazeshini's grip. Just past them was a sunken area of the floor, a table seating the familiar forms of Renji and Byakuya as well as three men he didn't recognize, one of whom was facing away. From the relief in Grimmjow's eyes it was clear Nel wasn't among the gathered. With a last look Halibel walked past them, not looking at the men. Hisagi watched her walk off, his stomach twisting unpleasantly. The Captain he trusted would never have allowed someone to disregard her like that.

"Ah, Nick. You've arrived," Grimmjow nodded his head, "please sit."

Hisagi's feet faltered as the third man looked up, pushing glasses onto the bridge of his nose. Grimmjow's hands behind his back balled into fists at the sight of him. There was no mistaking the cool emerald gaze though. It was undoubtedly Ulquiorra Schiffer who sat at the table--or the man he had become anyway. The other man turned his head to the other stranger, their gazes predator sharp. They had the same sharp features, though age and weight had softened those of the man who had spoken. Hisagi walked down to the middle of the floor and looked at them, trying not to feel like he wanted to tear his hair out. Taking a deep breath he smoothed his features and looked at them, trying to do his best impression of his usually cool Captain.

"Sorry about that," Grimmjow said gruffly, "I had to get him," he said nodding towards Hisagi. The man looked at Byakuya.

Even without his hair ornaments or extravagant scarf, Byakuya looked every bit the part of a haughty, impossible Noble. Despite the fact that the man looking at him clearly was adept at intimidating people he seemed to wither slightly at the coolness in Byakuya's gaze. Renji kept his gaze devoid of much of anything, as though he did nothing more than serve the wishes of his master. Hisagi knew damn well it was an act and Renji was probably fighting not to crack up--which meant that they had thankfully beat Nel to arriving.

"One of my distributors," Byakuya said coolly.

"Is he trustworthy?" the man asked. Byakuya's gaze swept over Hisagi.

"For the moment," he replied taking a sip from the cup that was in front of him.

"For the moment. Yes," the man nodded, "well, loyalty is a fickle thing. The dogs, they change their masters as soon as a new one with a fatter bone comes along."

"Then they should be put down," a cool voice said.

Renji's mask cracked.

That voice, that cool voice it just--it couldn't be her. He had to turn in his chair to make sure and even so something told him he had fallen into a nightmare. Moon pale, her hair fell around her features far too perfectly for it to be Nel. He knew the only thing Nel cared about was making sure the narrow scar from her mask was hidden under the tumble of green. He could see the lace and silk, bared fractionally by the opening of her sweater. He remembered the feel of that body, of her, pressed up against him. How she always smelled somehow exotic and comforting at the exact same time. There was none of the comforting in the woman in front of him, just that exotic scent that still made his heart ache.

"My daughter," he said, "Noel."

"Ms. Winters," Byakuya said, inclining his head respectfully.

"Is your Aunt here?" he asked.

At the mention of Halibel, her eyes narrowed fractionally. Renji felt his fingers dig into his knee. She used to _adore_ Halibel. He remembered the easiest way to locate the sometimes hard to find Captain was to listen for the nearest shout of 'Bel Bel'. But not now. Now it looked as though Nel couldn't stand her.

"I imagine she's in her room," Noel said with an absent flick of her hair as she sat and made it clear that she was not going to be the one to go and get her.

"Of course," he said as if it made perfect sense. Renji felt a fraction sicker, "well then," he looked at Noel, "you and Mr. Abarai will be working together," Noel looked at her father and then at Byakuya whose head gave the slightest movement towards Renji. Her eyes moved over to his, "the job shouldn't take more than a few days."

"Pity," Noel said, her eyes predator sharp, "shall we get started, Mr. Abarai?" she asked.

"Of course, Ms. Winters," Renji said trying not to feel weird as she stood and walked over to him. He stood up as well as she led him out of the room and down the hallway. Renji followed her down the hall and into another room, a much smaller but no less extravagant one.

"My apologies Mr. Abarai," she said, "I prefer to work in private."

"No problem," he said with a shrug, "you can call me Renji," he said finally, "Mr. Abarai makes me feel weird."

"Really?" her lips curved into a half smile, "you strike me as a man used to weirdness."

This time his smile was genuine.

"You have no idea."

* * *

A knock on the door rouse Grimmjow.

Rubbing a hand over his eyes and swearing pain on all who breathed, Grimmjow walked over to the door. A flat panel told him there was a child outside. Frowning further Grimmjow undid the door and opened it up, shocked to discover that the sensors were right. There was a little girl outside. She couldn't have been more than twelve--though he realized his interactions with children were pretty much non-existent. Worry, anger and stubbornness mixed together in her _familiar_ bright grey eyes as she looked up at him. Her hair was caught under a hat, he couldn't see any of it but that _look_ was very familiar. She raised her chin challengingly.

Shit, was a child one of the things Nicholas Grimm did that he didn't know about? Mizuho couldn't be _that_ much of a bitch could she? If this was her sick idea of a joke he was going to tell her how un-amused he was--with his fists. But first he had to deal with the girl at his front door. His apartment was being watched, that much he knew. Maybe she was somehow connected to Noel and the Winter's thing? But that was seriously weird for Noel too, he had a feeling she wasn't that much of a 'kid' person. He waited for the girl to talk while she clearly stared him down, waiting for the same.

"What?" he demanded finally.

"I'm tired," she said, "its a long flight. Let me in."

"Flight?" he frowned, "where are you from?"

"Japan," she said stepping past him into the apartment.

"Kid--" he began, "your dad--"

"Nick's not my father," she said dismissively.

Grimmjow breathed a sight of relief until the girl reached up and tugged off her hat to reveal a mop of violently colored blue hair. Then relief was the last thing he was feeling. Suddenly everything clicked into place. Or, perhaps, clicked was the wrong word. Everything seemed to _slam_ into place, like someone was dropping blocks of information. It was hard to breath, hard to think--almost impossible to comprehend why that grey stare looked so incredibly familiar. There was no shyness, no timidness either. In fact, if anything the girl looked _pissed_ off at him. She narrowed her sharp eyes and a defiantly raised her chin as she looked at him.

"Nick's not my father," she repeated, "you are."

"Huh?" Grimmjow stared at her, knowing there was no-one else who could've given the girl that hair color and still somehow uncomprehending that he had fathered a _child_.

That it was a _girl._

The girl continued to glare at him with a look that had all of Soifon's coldness with a good deal of his bloodlust. How the hell could they have had a kid--could they have had a _daughter_? If not for the obvious there were days when Grimmjow had distinctly remembered questioning Soifon being a woman. The girl was certainly dressed not girly, more for practical reasons he was sure than any fashion ones. He looked at Soifon's eyes and his hair and wondered if his alarm wasn't going to go off and wake him out of this nightmare.

"I didn't come before 'cause I didn't know where you were," she said with a shrug, "plus you wouldn't have remembered me."

"How old are you?" Grimmjow demanded looking at her.

"Twenty nine," she said crossing her arms, "its stupid how little I look."

Twenty nine.

Twenty nine.

That meant that Soifon had just been pregnant when the King had thrown him out. She had the kid right after he left. He had felt guilty about leaving her but now it seemed that there had been a hell of a lot more to it then he originally thought. When the phone rang they both jumped and looked at the thing as though it was about to destroy them. Grimmjow looked at the girl who gulped and looked back at him. Grimmjow walked over to the device and picked it up, already half knowing who would be on the other end.

"Is she there?!" came the sharp demand.

It was odd how something as simple as a voice could stir a million emotions. But he would know that demand anywhere. But now instead of just being angry there was worry in her voice as well. Worry and rage. Knowing Soifon she'd probably destroyed the entire division looking for her. Grimmjow felt himself grin at the thought of a hysterical Soifon. He really had missed a lot.

"Yeah," he said, "she's here."

"Oh thank God," came the relieved sigh.

"You're breakin' the rules for me?" he asked with a grin that had Aoi wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"Only by association," came the razor sharp retort. There was a moment of silence, "i suppose it is beyond you to put her on a plane and send her home?"

"Kinda," Grimmjow said, "I'm being watched," he lowered the phone, "hey, kid, did anyone see you come in?"

"I snuck in," she said, "but I dunno if I can sneak out again."

"Grimmjow its not--"

"Safe?" he grinned, "when are we ever safe _Shaolin_?" he asked, enjoying knowing that on the other end of the line she was probably glaring furiously at him, "I'll make sure we're both back fine," he said.

"Good," came the hot reply, "because you both are in _huge_ trouble when you get back."

Grimmjow raised an eyebrow, not entirely thrilled with being yelled at. There were hushed voices on the other end of the line and it occurred to Grimmjow that she might be breaking more rules then he thought.

"Grimmjow, be careful!" she hissed before the line went dead.

"Soifon--Soi--" he stopped, hearing the dial tone.

Grimmjow stared at the device, loathing the tone. He was sure that she could take care of herself but--but he still hated the thought that she was in trouble because of him. He looked at the girl and realized it wasn't just because of him but because of her as well. Well, it was probably a good thing that she was--well that she was Soifon. He didn't think anyone else he knew could've handled everything. He laid the phone down and walked over to the table where the girl was sitting. Girl, kid, he looked at her.

"You got a name?" he demanded finally.

"Aiko," she said, "but everyone calls me Aoi."

Grimmjow felt himself grin.

Of course her nickname would mean blue.

"Are we in trouble?" she asked finally.

"Yeah," he said sitting down, "You get that from me."

Aoi smiled.

* * *

**okay! So Soifon's in trouble, Grimmjow's got a kid--wow! This thing is moving along fast! Aoi's little crush on Kohaku is completely Kiephra's fault. When she drew the fanart she said she'd ship them. Well right now Aoi's just got a crush on him but in the future, who knows? Anyway they've got other things to worry about.**

**Unlike poor Renji, Byakuya and Hisagi who are about to go down a very slippery slope with their 'girls'. Especially Renji **

**Unfortunately thats all you get until the end of July.**

***ducks***

**I'm sorry! I was accepted into a Study Abroad program and i'm going to the HImalayas to study a type of Buddhist monastery. I promise I'll be dreaming up updates for this story and I'll update as soon as I get back (kinda). Come on I've got 30-some-odd other stories for you to scope out while you wait, surely that'll keep you entertained for a bit? Until I get back then. **

**See you at the end of July/Early August!**

**Oh and don't forget to review!**


	31. Ace of Pentacles

**ZOMG an update!!**

**Yes! An update! I apologize for my absence, life's been crazy and the latest Bleach chapters have SO not been inspiring. I didn't think an epic save-the-world battle could be so boring! Well thank you all for the love/threats when it comes to updates, I was truly touched. Even by those of you who had the *ahem* creative ways of telling me how much you wanted an update.**

**Oh and a huge thank you to everyone who asked about my trip. It was absolutely wonderful and crazy! I'm a total SCUBA freak so this was wild because I was going up instead of down. We camped up at 16,000 feet and people got altitude sickness and it was just beyond insane. Oh and one of the people hallucinated on Malaria medication and for half the trip we had this Dutch motorcycle tour following us. We kept staying at the same camp sites and everything. So now I can officially say I've been hiking, climbing, backpacking and camping and my more woodsy friends can lay off me! I just happened to do it at a much higher elevation than them.**

**Also my profile page now has much simpler links. So now if you want to see the FAN ART, there is a link on my profile literally labeled FAN ART. Click and you're in my incredibly disorganized fan art folder on deviant art. There are also links to my AMV project with DeviantArt's incredibly talented 'Frotu' and links to the AMV tribute made for Toro Nagashi that you all should go watch! **

**Huge big thank yous go to **VioTanequil **who beta'd this. I was totally uncool with Senbonzakura in the anime being a dude but **VioTanequil's **awesome fic "My World Is Cold" has totally made me like the idea. Go read it! Its beyond fabulous. **

**

* * *

  
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**The dark car zipped along the street.**

Seated in the front, Patrick Schiffer maneuvered the vehicle with cool, calm. His hands were loose on the steering wheel and his eyes were sharp beneath the glasses on his nose. His eyes caught different symbols and, in the back of his mind, he traced their origins. It was as though he was at his desk in his office, not in a car speeding down the back roads at close to a hundred miles an hour. It was incredibly frustrating to him, not to feel the once exhilarating pound of adrenaline. He felt nothing, not the hairpin turns, not the dizzying speed, nothing except a vague sense of annoyance that he was being called out at such a late hour--or an early one if he chose to look at it that way.

The meeting point was just ahead and he turned sharply, sliding the car into the parking space with skill that had come with a large amount of practice. Turning off the car he slid out of the interior and stepped around the front of the car. He was prepared to see Mr. Winters and his brother, he was even prepared for Noel standing there. He was also prepared for Nick Grimm, though he felt low stir of alarm at the fact he was there at all given how he had been acting. What he was not prepared for were there as well A tall man with inky black hair pulled into a low, loose tail at the nape of his neck and dressed in an exceptionally cut suite. Though he had a feeling the man standing next to him was his associate, it was hard to believe considering the violent red hair and numerous tattoos he saw at the edges of his shirt. It was believable that the third man was an associate of the red haired one, considering he bore equally unruly hair and tattoos, though his were on his face. Ignoring the distaste that he felt, he walked towards them.

"Dr. Schiffer, it is, as always, a pleasure," Mr. Winters said. Patrick inclined his head. Some nameless henchman walked by him, slid into the car and drove it silently into the recesses of the dock. Soon it vanished into the darkness of the cargo containers. Mr. Winters looked over at the two men, "this, Dr. Schiffer, is Mr. Kaito Sakamoto."

"Mr. Sakamoto," Patrick said with a cool nod which was returned by the infamous crime boss.

"Mr. Sakamoto's associates are Mr. Renji Abarai and Mr. Shuuhei Hisagi," Mr. Winters continued motioning to Renji and Hisagi in turn. Patrick greeted each of them with the same cool nod which they returned, "have you managed to locate the rest of the drivers we will require?"

"Of course," Patrick said, "unless the cargo will be greater, given the sudden amount of people it is taking to pull this off."

"Oh dear, I fear Dr. Schiffer is unhappy with the new additions to our team," Mr. Winters said, though it was clear the sentiment was shared by his daughter and brother, "consider yourself fortunate that you are such a valuable employee, Dr. Schiffer," he said, a note of cold in his voice, "I do not enjoy being questioned."

"You are a far better criminal than I," Patrick said.

"I prefer to think of myself as an entrepreneur," Mr. Winters replied, "well now that all of you have met, I believe we are finished here."

"Very well," Patrick said, "goodnight," he turned and walked off.

If his pace was faster than normal, then it was a forgivable instinct. He was no hardened criminal, no matter how he sometimes wished that was the case. His own car was parked nearby and through the darkness he could see a figure silhouetted in the dimness of the car. He turned and pulled open the drivers side and slid into the car. Patrick looked over at Isabelle. Whatever excuse she had given, he did not care. She was sitting there looking perfectly composed while Patrick felt murder spark in his eyes. For a moment he was silent, knowing that screaming would get them nowhere. Finally he turned to face her.

"You cannot keep secrets if this is to work," he said, his voice low and tight with anger.

"Secrets?" she looked over at him, her brow furrowing in confusion, "what secrets?"

"Kaito Sakamoto was assassinated three days ago," Patrick spat out, "the government sent an assassin after him. They confirmed the kill."

"Well then they were wrong!" Isabelle cried, "he showed up on time, he's shown us the cargo that's prepared to ship, everything is in place!"

"Well the cargo's not going to be there," Patrick replied, his voice low and urgent, "and if its not there, we've got no case."

True, genuine fear shone in her eyes. Patrick felt a stab of sympathy for the woman. She had gotten in way over her head and was desperately fighting to find a way out. But they both knew that for her to be safe the Winter's crime syndicate had to be nothing more than a bad memory. Unfortunately if they simply caught a man waiting for an empty cargo ship, then there was no case. Isabelle would be back to square one--or she would be killed. In fact, they probably all would if this did not go off precisely as it had been planned.

"He looks just like him," Isabelle said, "so he clearly does not want anyone to know he isn't Sakamoto," she let out an angry breath, "I'll find out more information."

"What?"

"I'll find out more information. I'm already supposed to be his 'escort' for his stay," she said, her voice dripping with venom, "I'll find out what he's really up too."

"Out of the question," Patrick said, "you're in enough trouble as it is. We can't have you get more involved. If another crime syndicate comes after you--"

"If this doesn't work then with an alliance like this, it won't matter how far I run. They will find me," she looked at him, desperation in her eyes, "I can do this, Patrick. I _have_ to do this. Its my only chance."

Patrick sighed and gripped the steering wheel, hating the sense in her words. But they were out of options and, soon, they would be out of time. They only had one definite shot. Another might take years, or it might never come at all. This had to be it. Isabelle was right, as much as he hated to admit it. The consequence of her not getting further involved was far worse than the danger of her getting more involved. He hated it, hated to admit that he was going to have to put her in more danger.

"Very well," he said, voice low. She moved towards the door, "be careful," he added quickly.

Isabelle nodded and stepped out of the car.

Patrick drove off into the night.

* * *

Grimmjow stepped into the darkness of Nick's apartment, locking the door behind him. Between Patrick and Noel, he felt like he was living life second to second. His blood rushed every moment that he was in their company, adrenaline pounding through him like a living thing. There was a time when he had always lived life like that, when each moment had been obsession with the chase, the thrill, the promise of a kill. But when _he_ was the kill, it was a far less interesting game. Even so, the fact he did not relish such a thing made him feel excessively old.

And the small, blue-haired girl sleeping on the couch was certainly not helping matters.

She looked small, delicate almost. She was curled tightly into a ball on the couch, her blue hair half hiding her features. He could her hear snoring lightly, her fingers hugging one of the pillows to her chest. Grimmjow stared down at her. He had left an hour ago when Mr. Winters had called him to come to the docks. Or he thought it was an hour. Maybe it had been a few hours. Aoi had said she'd be fine and he believed her. She clearly was alright, she had just fallen sound asleep. Grimmjow looked over at the TV screen in time to see an alien kill a man wearing a suit of armor. Grimmjow looked down at Aoi before shaking his head and turning off the TV. At least she liked action movies.

His hand rested on the screen as he realized he had _no_ idea about the girl sleeping behind him. He had known there was a possibility that there could be a child between an ex-Arrancar and a Shinigami, but it was such a low chance. And to think it was _him_. Him and Soifon, that was the most unbelievable thing. She was not the maternal type, not by any stretch of the imagination and yet the blue haired girl curled up behind him said that somehow she had learned to be just that. She was a mom and he, he was a dad and the idea left him ice cold. He knew Rukia had been pregnant when he had left. The idea that Ichigo had been there to raise his kid and he had been off doing whatever it was Nick did, didn't make him feel any better.

Turning from the room, he walked into the bedroom that he had been sleeping in. It took him a moment to find the closet with a pile of spare linens folded neatly, something he'd be willing to bet was not done by Nick himself. Finding a blanket, he walked back into the main room. Aoi had kicked her shoes off already onto the ground. Grimmjow knew that Soifon wouldn't have allowed shoes on the furniture. Opening the blanket, he carefully put it over Aoi's curled form. She didn't even stir, still sleeping like a rock. Grimmjow stepped back, looking at the sleeping form of the child they had created and turned from the room, walking into his own bedroom and dropping onto the bed, falling sound asleep.

It was hours but it seemed like minutes before he was woken by a knock on the door. Grimmjow stood up and walked over to the door, checking the person before pulling it open to reveal Shuuhei Hisagi. The Lieutenant of the Ninth Division walked into the apartment but instead of looking at Grimmjow, his eyes went right for Aoi. Grimmjow saw him shake his head slightly as he looked at the little girl, but the gesture was heavy with affection. Grimmjow had a feeling Aoi was something of a handful. Hisagi turned and looked over at Grimmjow.

"Stop with the look. She showed up yesterday," Grimmjow growled.

"Does--"

"She knows," he said.

"She wanted--"

"It doesn't matter," Grimmjow said, voice low before he turned and walked into the kitchen. Nick's options for breakfast were almost nonexistent except for a box of cereal. Figuring it was better than nothing, Grimmjow grabbed it before walking back into the living room. Aoi was curled tighter, mumbling something and yanking the blankets over her head. Grimmjow walked over and seized the edge of the blanket, pulling it clear off her, "get up," he ordered.

"Hey!" Aoi shouted shoving herself up before her eyes widened, seemingly surprised to see him there holding a box of cereal in one hand and the blanket in his other, "Lieutenant Hisagi," she gasped looking over at Hisagi.

"Hi Aoi," he said before his voice turned serious, "Did Kohaku give you the gigai?"

"Maybe," she said looking down and blushing faintly.

"What the--" Grimmjow looked at the blue haired girl and then at Hisagi, "You better not mean Kohaku as in Yoruichi's _son_ Kohaku--" Hisagi nodded as Grimmjow's phone rang, "This isn't over," he told the bost of them.

He stormed out of the room with the phone in his hand. Hisagi picked up the cereal and put it on the table as Aoi walked into the kitchen, returning with three bowls, spoons and a carton of what Hisagi sincerely hoped was not expired milk.

"You're going to have to eat more," he told her as she poured cereal, "The gigai can't support your Spiritual Powers."

"I know," Aoi said.

Grimmjow came back into the room and looked at Hisagi.

"We can't get in touch with Sun Sun," Grimmjow said finally.

"What?" Hisagi stared at him.

"There's a chance she went into hiding. But we can't find her," he finished.

Hisagi sat down, hard. They couldn't find Sun Sun or Kylie. Fifty years and he had found her again, only to loose her once more. In some deep, dark part of him he felt jealous. It was not Sun Sun's fault she was a Fraccion, that she did not have the same kind of power the other former Espada did. But fate seemed determined to separate them--to take her away. In the distance he heard Grimmjow on the phone, giving an access codes and talking to other people. Hisagi heard it from some distance, his ears ringing.

"Where would she go?" he demanded finally, "she wasn't involved--not enough for this--"

"Ulquiorra--Patrick's thinking its because she's Halibel's best friend," Grimmjow said, "who the fuck cares why--" he stopped and glanced down at Aoi who shrugged and continued to eat, "she's been taken by them. We have to figure out where."

"I can find her."

They both turned as Mizuho opened the door without so much as a moment's hesitation. She was dressed rather eccentrically in bright yellow pants tucked into plaid sneakers. They could see the edge of her shirt, partially concealed by the half zipped pale jacket she wore.

"How did you--"

"Keys," she said dangling the silvery objects from her fingers, "I know where Nick's got spares."

"This place is being watched!" Grimmjow pointed out.

"Yeah? So?" Mizuho shrugged before her eyes landed on the figure eating at the table. Her eyes widened as they went to Grimmjow, narrowing angrily, "who the hell's that?" she demanded.

"Where's Sun Sun?" Hisagi demanded, "How can you find her?"

"We're talking about this later," Mizuho promised Grimmjow before turning to Hisagi, "yeah, so," she pulled a black object from her back pocket, "mom suggested I get some way to track you all down," she hit the side and the device hummed to life, "lets find her."

"How--"

"Tracking chip," Mizuho said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "if she's in the City, we should be able to find her," she looked at the device, "yeah, they missed it. They're on the Drive, heading south."

Grimmjow pulled out his phone, immediately beginning to make calls.

"Aoi, stay here," he ordered her. She nodded, "let's go."

Hisagi followed him out of the room and downstairs into a car waiting. Mizuho started the car and they took off down the road.

"Call it in!" she ordered Grimmjow.

"Call what in?"

"Call the number I gave you and tell them what's going on!" Mizuho shouted, "they have to meet us on the bridge. Sun Sun's not going to be there for long."

Grimmjow began calling. Hisagi gripped the seat, trying not to dwell on what that meant. The car zipped down the road, swerving and going faster than he was sure was safe. It didn't matter. Safe didn't guarantee Sun Sun a safe return. More cars in front of them were slowing down and stopping entirely. Hisagi craned his neck, trying to see what was going on but he couldn't. Mizuho slammed her hand to the steering wheel.

"Damn it, he's probably blocked the road."

"We'll run it, come on," Grimmjow said as they got out of the car, "Hisagi go another route. This might not go well."

Hisagi nodded as Grimmjow and Mizuho took off towards the bridge. As they raced there, the scene that came into view was much worse than Grimmjow imagined. A large truck blocked off the road, turned clear on its side. It was recent enough that there were no police around yet. Past that he saw two men dressed in dark cloths, their faces half hidden by hoods holding a terrified Kylie. Chains snaked around her wrists and ankles, the thick, heavy metal having only one purpose on the bridge.

"Freeze!" Mizuho shouted, "let her go!"

The men said nothing, looking over at her. Kylie's eyes widened as one of them clapped a hand over her mouth, a gun pressing to her temple. He moved backwards, pulling her with him. The other kept his guns trained on Grimmjow and Mizuho. Their silence held, neither said anything as the man stepped towards the water, pulling her with them. Grimmjow scrambled for the gun he knew he should have but didn't find it. Mizuho seemed to be having a similar problem but she kept her hands hidden, as if she did. It was not working on the men.

"I said don't move!" she shouted.

The men traded glances before suddenly one leapt over the bridge rail. The other followed him.

The last one over the rail was Kylie.

Grimmjow ran forward but they were already gone. He saw the foamy water where they had jumped and felt sick. One had a gun, they could have killed her but instead they chose a more painful death. Grimmjow heard shouts and turned his head, looking over his shoulder. His eyes widened as he saw Hisagi come running up the bridge, faster than he thought possible. He realized he was using Spiritual Power to run that fast, obviously not caring who saw it. Grimmjow felt his stomach drop as Hisagi raced over to the rail of the bridge and grabbed onto it.

"What the--"

Without missing a beat, Hisagi heaved himself onto the rail, yanking his heavy coat off and throwing it aside. Police began to move towards him but he stayed still, his eyes scanning the water. Seeing something, Hisagi moved forward.

"Hisagi! No!" Mizuho lunged forward but the young man was already off the bridge.

He hit the water, the wave easily closing over his head. Hisagi looked around, knowing if he was human he'd be dead. He ignored it and pushed himself downwards to where they had thrown her off the bridge. She was murky as she came into view, the chains around her legs and hands dragging her towards the ground. Her eyes widened as she saw him, her arms moving against the chains. Hisagi reached out and snagged the sleeve of her shirt, pulling himself closer to her. He could see her straining and knew that her air was almost gone. The lock was cold against his hands but he slammed Kido into it, breaking it instantly. The chains continued their descent to the ground. Hisagi looked up as her body convulsed, her instincts over ridding control as she inhaled.

_I'm not going to die_

_Not here_

_Not now_

_Not in the desert_

_Not on the training ground of Soul Society_

_No!_

Sun Sun gagged as she felt water stream through her lungs. Disoriented, she still struck out, her arms moving towards the surface. The world darkened with nauseating speed and despite her intention to move her arm, the limb stopped responding. An arm wrapped around her waist as more water entered her system. Sun Sun choked and sputtered, but it was impossible to stop. She was dimly aware of movement, fast movement. But whether it was up or down, she didn't know. Nothing made sense anymore, nothing except the terrible sense of hopelessness, of despair. Of failure. Dimly, Sun Sun tried to cling onto whatever she could, but just as her body was not obeying, her mind was not either and, despite her best efforts, the world faded away.

Hisagi felt her go limp against him at the same time his head broke the surface of the water. He didn't dare look, didn't dare to think she was anything more than unconscious, It didn't matter that she was Kylie Khurshid and not Sun Sun, she was connected to her. If she died, Sun Sun was as good as dead as well. He looked up as a boat pulled alongside them. Hands grabbed at him and at her, pulling her onto the boat before he found himself there as well.

"Sir?"

He didn't respond to the voice, only watching as two men laid her limp body down on the dock. One began to push on her chest as the other hovered nearby with an oxygen mask.

"Sir? Sir we need--"

She was too still, too limp, too pale--he couldn't bare the thought of this being the end. Of Sun Sun being gone. It wasn't fair, it couldn't be happening. Not like this, not now--

"Sir, Mr. Hisagi-"

Suddenly a gagging sound reached his ears. Hisagi's eyes widened as she coughed, her body jerking as water spilled from her mouth. Instantly the man turned her on her side as water poured from her mouth, spilling onto the deck. She coughed before her eyes opened and widened, looking first at the deck of the boat and then at the hand holding her. Still coughing, she managed to shove herself away from them, struggling to her feet and gripping the boat for support. One hand came up to cover her mouth as she continued to choke, her ears obviously closed to the medics trying to calm her down.

"Miss Khurshid, its alright--"

Hisagi looked at her hand. It was half gripping the boat, but her fingers were moving, twisting--

"Sun Sun," her name was low on his lips, his body feeling as though it was a million miles away.

Still she heard him.

Her head flew over to him, her hands dropping to her side. She was silent, deathly silent, as if she was holding her breath. Her grey eyes widened as she looked at him. He instantly knew what she was thinking, that she had been just as sure as he was that she was lost to eternity. That for all his power, the King of Soul Society had better things to do than think of one defiant ex-fraccion who never should have escaped Hueco Mundo in the first place. But she had been wrong, _he _had been wrong and there they were, standing only feet apart.

"Sh-h--" she tried to draw a breath, to get his name out but all that came out was a cough.

Sun Sun didn't have time to fight to draw the next breath before he crossed the narrow space of the deck and grabbed her, crushing her frame against his chest. Sun Sun buried her face in his shirt, her fingers gripping the wet fabric as hard as they could. She could feel the warmth of his gigai through the wet fabric that separated them. She could feel _him_, as real and palpable as the deck beneath their feet.

"Its okay," he said, tightening his hold on her, "its over, you're safe."

Sun Sun nodded before beginning to cough again.

"Miss, Miss this will help," one of the medics said with the mask in his hand.

"Huh? Oh--" Hisagi felt her fingers twist in the fabric of his shirt as she coughed again, "of course," she managed to get out quickly, removing her hand and letting the medics put the mask around her face.

"Here, Mr. Hisagi," one of the medics had a blanket around his shoulders and another did the same for Sun Sun, "we're going to take you to the hospital."

Hisagi nodded, working one arm free of the blankets to wrap around Sun Sun. She leaned against his chest as the boat whisked them off towards the dock closest to the hospital.

A few hours, an oxygen mask, an IV and hospital gown later, Sun Sun found herself sitting on a hospital bed watching the sun dip below the horizon. There was a gentle knock on the door. Quickly she turned around to see Hisagi, dressed in clean, dry cloths standing there. Behind the mask she smiled brightly as he walked into the room. In his hand he held a bunch of bright yellow flowers, buttercups, their division flower. He sat on the hospital bed, holding the flowers out to her.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Like I drowned," she said, frowning as her voice was muffled by the mask, "no, more like I died and came back to life."

"Well," he began.

"Don't say it," she said pressing a hand to the mask on her face, her cheeks flushing.

"Grimmjow flat-lined if it makes you feel better," he said. Sun Sun laughed at that before she began to cough, "oh--don't laugh," Hisagi began, reaching out and steadying her.

"I'm okay," she said raising her eyes and meeting his gaze.

The door opened suddenly to reveal Mizuho, holding a bag in one hand. She dropped it onto the bed, looking at Sun Sun.

"Get dressed, there's a car downstairs. Your keys and information are in there. Don't talk to anyone, just go home and stay there," Sun Sun nodded.

Hisagi left the room as she changed. Minutes later, they were in the smooth black car that was waiting downstairs.

The two of them were quiet as the car moved silently across the street, taking them towards Sun Sun's apartment. Dressed in a simple blue dress, a thin sweater across her upper body, Sun Sun seemed small in the leather interior of the car. Hisagi tried not to stare too much, to keep his gaze on the surrounding area, but it was difficult. He felt as if he let his gaze stray for too long, he'd turn back to her and find no-one there. The police had decided Sun Sun was the safest in her apartment. According to Mizuho, the deal was getting close. Close enough that Mr. Winters wouldn't try anything else.

Finally the car pulled up to an apartment building. Hisagi got out at the same time Sun Sun did, coming around the other side of the car. Quickly they walked through the lobby and into the elevator. They were silent as they rode to the floor that Mizuho had written down. After a short time, they found themselves outside a plain door, marked only with the apartment number.

"Mizuho says this is mine," Sun Sun said, pulling out the silvery key and sliding it into the lock. It clicked and turned, opening the door. Taking a deep breath she walked into the small, tidy apartment, "its very clean," she said finally.

Past the small kitchen was a central room, half of which was occupied with a dining room table, the other half which was occupied with a couch and a tv. Hisagi walked through the sun drenched apartment, noting the massive windows that looked out into the city. He found himself in another room, sparsely furnished with a wardrobe, a vanity and a bed, still neatly made. He heard Sun Sun's quiet footsteps and turned as she walked silently into the bedroom, looking around. Her eyes moved around the room before they settled on him.

Hisagi saw relief, plain and simple in them.

She stepped towards him, her feet bare against the soft carpet. Hisagi felt his body turn towards her as she walked closer to him. Slowly her fingers reached out and grasped the zipper of his jacket, sliding the metal tab along the teeth. Hisagi watched her movement, mesmerized by the delicacy of her touch. Her hands had always been smooth, even with her fighting. Smooth and agile and absolutely perfect. His hand, calloused even in the gigai he wore, came forward and caught hers, moving it away from his opened jacket. She looked at their hands, feeling the calluses of his palm against her own skin.

She watched as Hisagi raised her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her hand. Sun Sun closed her eyes and stepped closer, sliding her fingers through his. Rising on her toes, she gently leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his. Slowly their hands separated as his moved. One slid around her waist, the other moving gently through her hair. His movements were sure and smooth, but not insistent. Never insistent, never forcing. His arms were strong, comforting even as the familiar smell of metal and cotton and paper surrounded her. Sun Sun leaned into his embrace, her hands resting on his arms. Slowly she slid her hands up to the expanse of his shoulders, pulling him closer. His lips moved from hers, trailing kisses against the column of her throat as Sun Sun felt her fingers dig into his shoulders, her lip catching between her teeth as she fought the sounds in the back of her throat.

"Let go," he murmured against her skin.

Sun Sun gasped softly, powerless to do anything but obey. Her head tilted to the side to allow him more access. Her fingers slid down the plane of his chest, resting on the opening of his jacket. Still hazy with his touch, she slid the jacket up and off his shoulders, exposing the t-shirt underneath. His hands left her only long enough to toss the jacket behind him before his calloused hands cupped her cheeks, bringing her face back to his. His thumbs were gentle on her cheekbones, his fingers slipping around to her throat before moving across her body, as though he was trying to memorize her form with his hands. She felt the thin sweater she wore bunch in his palms, sliding off her frame as she moved her wrists to allow the fabric to slip away.

Sun Sun took a breath and looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. She reached out, her fingers running across the tattoo on his cheek, tracing the numbers inked there before running down his chest, all the way to the bottom of his shirt. He watched her movements, his hands still as she grasped the fabric of his shirt in her fingers.

"Sun--" he began. She looked at him, "are you sure?"

Sun Sun nodded and tugged the hem higher, pulling it up and over his head. Hisagi let his arms rise and the fabric came off, joining his jacket and her sweater on the floor. Scars decorated his torso, some she recognized, some she did not. His hand trailed up the bare skin of her arm, her skin practically dancing in the wake of his touch. His fingers reached the strap of her dress, gently resting against the fabric as his other made its own journey. Sun Sun looked at him as his fingers grasped the straps of her dress, gently pulling them down. Sun Sun slipped her arms through them, letting the fabric slide down her body and pool around her ankles. Hisagi looked down at her form, bathed in sunlight and clad only in her underwear.

Hisagi pulled her against him, his hand sliding down her legs before sweeping her off her feet. Sun Sun smiled as he carried her over to the bed, setting her down on the sheets. She looked up at him, her eyes hazy with delight.

"I'm so glad we don't have to worry about one of those Hollow alarms interrupting," she said pulling him down.

"Or paperwork," he said, nipping at her earlobe.

"Especially not paperwork," she said wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer.

They did not talk after that.

* * *

**And Sun Sun's back! My love for Hisagi's totally intensified through the anime and manga. He's become so badass and now with Kazeshini...I love him. And I totally love him with Sun Sun. I'm a fan of my own crack ships! I think I just like the way Sun Sun and Hisagi go together. Plus he's sexy so I wanted to something a bit more, um, sexual with the two of them. Next time: Byakuya and Halibel get a bit closer and a certain sunset haired 'spiritual healer' pays Dr. Schiffer a visit. **

**In the mean time....**

**Please PLEASE review!**


	32. King of Swords

**Okay and welcome to the next chapter of Arcana!**

***ducks***

**I'm so sorry for the delay. It seems the people who enjoy the rest of my stories have taken a leaf out of your book and have become far more, shall we say, vocal about their desires for updates. I beg your understanding and patience as I try to please, well, everyone...including my demanding Muse.**

**A big huge thank you goes to **VioTanequil** who beta'd this with awesome speed. **

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"Good Afternoon Miss Measures. I believe Mr. Winters is expecting you."

Isabelle nodded as the maitre d' smiled at her. She did not need to look at the clock next to her know that she was late for their meeting. But, then again, being a few minutes late was hardly cause for concern. If anything it would help her make the kind of entrance she needed to make if she was going to pull this off. The maitre d' nodded to the hostess before motioning her forward. Isabelle followed him into the main dining room, holding her head high as he led her to the table. She glanced at the people; her would-be husband and his brother were predictable. But the man sitting across from them was not. The maitre d' stopped and looked at the men.

"Miss Measures," he said.

Byakuya felt every muscle in his body clench. He could see gold out of the corner of his eye and knew all he had to do was turn his head. But he was finding that an exceptionally difficult thing to do. Features still schooled in a mask of impassiveness he turned his head to face the woman that Halibel had once been--the woman she was now. He was not prepared for the feeling that grabbed him the moment he looked at her.

It felt as though he had been punched in the stomach.

The dress she wore was somehow the exact shade of her skin, the texture of the fabric the only thing keeping her from looking completely nude. As it was, a passing glance would force the man to look twice. Draping in the front managed to conceal a good portion of her breasts but the teasing glimpse was somehow much worse than when her breasts had been almost completely exposed. The dress hugged every curve she had, offering teasing hints but never completely giving the secret away. It came to the floor but that was not where Byakuya's eyes were drawn. Her hair was pulled back, a few locks permitted to fall around her features. She would never be china-doll pretty or delicate at all really. But there was something almost primal about her features, something one could not help but be drawn to. Earrings and a few bracelets were her only jewelry, the skin of her neck and shoulders left wonderfully bare.

"Ah, Mr. Sakamoto, may I present my fiancée, Habibah Measures."

It was a miracle that Byakuya found his way to his feet with any sort of grace. She looked at him with the same teal eyes he had not seen in almost half a century and he felt paralyzed. That look, that look that seemed to say that even if she could not read everything he was, she did not particularly care. It was infuriating and intriguing all at the same time and, despite his best effort to be unaffected by it, Byakuya found it was impossible not to care. Even in this new form, even as she did not remember him, she still had the exact same look in her eyes. The look he had first seen when he had come into Mayuri's lab and found her there nude, with a thousand times more dignity that he was sure he would display had their positions been reversed.

"Miss Measures," Byakuya said in greeting.

"Mr. Sakamoto," she replied.

It was only through supreme force of will that Isabelle kept her features as calm as they were. She had seen this man in passing before, but now faced with him, Isabelle felt more off put than she had in some time. She had thought that her life as it was, living with the constant threat of being discovered and killed, would have steeled her against anything. She did not realize, until she faced him, just how completely wrong she had been. Her face remained serene, giving away nothing, as she had been trained to do. First on stage, then when her fiancé paraded her around as though she was some prize, and now when she was faced with a man who could destroy everything. A man who was supposed to be dead.

A man who she _knew_ she had seen before.

Isabelle could not say where or when she had seen him but she knew, with every fiber of her being, that this man was familiar. His resemblance to Sakamoto was very close, but the man in front of her was not him. Sakamoto had made his own money, made his own way in the world and everything he did had a cocky air about it. But the man in front of her, he had been born to the power he wielded. There was thinly veiled arrogance, something that clearly came from what he had accomplished. But the silver spoon had been in his mouth from the moment he had taken his first breath. Isabelle tried to think of where she would possibly have met a man like him but nothing came to her.

"Have we met before?" Isabelle asked looking at him.

"Only in passing, Miss Measures," Byakuya said, pleased that his voice came out cool.

Isabelle nodded without completely believing him and sat down in the chair that was pulled out for her. She never enjoyed these dinners but they were a necessary part of the life she was attempting to uphold. There was a time when she had been so floored by these lavish things she had been too overwhelmed to speak. Of course she been very young and yet had quickly learned that in parties such as these she was not actually supposed to talk. Not in any way that really mattered. She had no illusions about her role at the dinner table--nor did her low cut dress. She was arm candy, simple as that, a pretty thing designed to sit there and look exactly like that. Her opinions, they did not matter, nor did anything she did. All that she had to do was sit there quietly.

Sit there and try not to scream.

All she wanted to do--just as she had wanted for some time--was to run as far away from this place as she could. There was a certain irony in it really. She had seen who her fiancé was, she had seen it and yet he had been fine with it. Fine with it, of course, until she realized that however bad she had thought him he was a hundred times worse. Conspiring against his brother was bad, but it was worse that he saw nothing wrong with ripping everything Noel had worked or away from her. Still neither of those things had been enough to make her want to leave him. She hadn't wanted to go until that first night when he slapped her over some trivial thing. Until the night a few weeks later when he had blackened her eye to the point where makeup couldn't quite cover it. But it wasn't until a few months of occasional beatings had gone by, until the night he threw her down and had his way without her willingness that she had gone to the police.

She hadn't known then of dirty cops and payouts from his family. Hadn't known until the police car had pulled up to the mansion and she had felt as though she was being led to the gallows. He had taught her a lesson, well, that was what he called it. She called it a two-day period where she stayed inside because the swelling in her face was too sever for her to go outside without questions being asked, without her being forced to give explanations that she couldn't possibly give. After that it had taken weeks for her to find a police officer, to make sure that he was not corrupted or dirty. And Nicholas Grimm hadn't been--not in the beginning anyway. But he had been willing and she had been desperate and, most importantly, Patrick trusted him. If Patrick, who saw through people's lies better than anyone she had ever known trusted him, then Isabelle had decided she could as well.

She knew she had made the right decision but it felt like it was taking forever for it to pay off. Every glance, every question, every time someone spoke to her she felt as though she was under a magnifying glass. She knew they had no idea, but she felt as though they did. As though every time they looked at her they could see what she was really doing. It was the most nerve racking thing she had ever done in her entire life. When it was done, when she was not tiptoeing on egg shells every second of every day, as she had been for almost an entire year, she had a feeling she was going to sleep for a week.

"Miss Measures," her fingers paused on the stem of the wine glass as she turned and looked at the man pretending to be Sakamoto, "Mr. Winters has informed me you are a performer."

"I was," Isabelle said with a smile as she looked at him while the two other men shifted slightly in displeasure, "but my now I focus on my charity work."

Charity was a funny name for it, since aside from checks being written very little charity work actually happened. It was far more for the women in her same financial situation to strut their money and fashion. Of course they seemed to actually enjoy it whereas she simply left there feeling suffocated by the thinly veiled egos. The dislike of such things was probably the only thing she shared with Noel--that and the fact they both wanted her fiancé to be in an ungodly amount of pain. Isabelle glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, pleased to see the narrowing of his eyes--a sure sign that he was less than pleased with the topic at she let it drop, instead taking a sip of her wine.

"Well," Mr. Winters spoke, "if nothing else, Isabelle's musical talents did make it easy for her to learn English.

"English?" Byakuya looked at her, surprised, "what is your first language?"

"Arabic," Isabelle said setting down the glass of wine, "I learned English when I was very young."

"Where are you from?" Byakuya inquired, trying to learn more.

"Egypt," she replied, Aswan to be exact," she looked at him, "and where are you from?"

Byakuya looked at her carefully, considering his answer to the question. He knew what his answer _should_ have been, he knew that Mr. Sakamoto had been born in Tokyo but, just for a moment, he found himself considering telling her the truth. He quickly dismissed the notion knowing that even if he did somehow tell her the truth she would not understand.

"I was born in Tokyo," he said instead.

She nodded with a smile but Byakuya was not foolish enough to think it was genuine.

As dinner wore on, he found himself increasingly infuriated with the two men sitting across from him. He had never enjoyed the social obligations that came with his station. Yoruichi had once told him that the very definition of an aristocrat was someone who said one thing and did another. But his patience was wearing thin. He was not sure when he had all but lost the stomach for these things, perhaps it was thirty years ago when the Elders began, once more, to pester him with marriages or maybe it was twenty years ago when Kohaku had been finally declared heir apparent to the Shihouin Name and Yoruichi's presence was quietly faded out. He was not sure, all he was certain of was that he was frustrated beyond belief. Especially with the man sitting directly across who seemed to alternate between thinly veiled hungry looks at Halibel and equally poorly hidden looks of ambition towards his brother.

Throughout the meal though, Halibel conducted herself spectacularly. To the point where the thought crossed Byakuya's mind of how she could interact at the incredibly boring council functions of the Kuchiki clan. The moment the thought crossed his mind, however, he quickly pushed it aside. There was no point in even considering what he was thinking of, for far more reasons than he could list off the top of his head. Not the least of which was her history. He had learned to see past her actions as an Arrancar but he knew that the Elders were _anything_ but open minded. So Byakuya pushed the thoughts to the side and looked instead at the two vile men across from him and tried to focus on the fact that they were eventually going to help the other get home--rather than the fact he wished for nothing more than to grab the knife in front of him and stick it through their throats. He listened partially, answering when it was appropriate, for the rest of the meal. Once the bill had been taken care of, however, Mr. Winters turned to him.

"So, Mr. Sakamoto. If you require _anything_ during your stay you will not hesitate to speak to Miss Measures."

Byakuya looked at him, disbelief pounding through him. He could not possibly mean what Byakuya thought he was implying. His brother seemed perfectly alright with the conversation and while her eyes were fixed on the coffee cup in front of her, it was clear that Halibel was anything but happy with the situation at hand. Shock made him pause as the raw anger that coursed through him made it impossible to speak. What these men were implying, it was degrading and certainly not acceptable, not for anyone but absolutely not for the woman sitting with them. Still Byakuya forced his movements to be cool as he stood up and looked at Halibel before he looked at the men.

"I will be sure to keep that in mind," Byakuya said, "for tonight, however, ask you to accompany me to my hotel."

"Very well," she said after a moment, getting to her feet with an unparalleled amount of grace, "Gentlemen," she nodded to the two men and walked out, carrying herself more like a noble than either of them could hope to.

Byakuya walked after her, smoothly accepting the two coats the attendant presented to them. The floor length white coat he knew was hers. He held it out. Cautiously she stepped forward, sliding her arms into the sleeves with practiced ease. Byakuya pulled the garment up onto her shoulders before he picked up his own coat and pulled the dark wool on. He looked up at her to see her looking at the wall, a grim sort of acceptance in her eyes. Byakuya realized she would do what he asked now. One part fiancée, one part prostitute it seemed. His stomach turned but he spoke calmly anyway.

"Forgive the inconvenience," he said. She looked at him quickly, with all the surprise of a deer in the headlights, "I fear I am new to this city. Our meal was heavier than I am used to but I do not know this place well enough to walk alone."

"It is no inconvenience at all," she said, her features smoothing into that untouchable mask he had seen before, "this way."

He followed her out into the cool night. Snow was falling around them already, dusting the streets and making the lamps flicker. Heedless of it, she walked forward. He matched her pace easily as they made their way down the deserted street. To her credit, she made it two blocks before she turned on him, stopping dead in the street.

"Who are you?"

Byakuya's eyes widened. It was one thing to be asked subtly for information, with questions he could easily give the answers to--answer that he knew. Like where Mr. Sakamoto was born. But to be asked flat out who he was, that clearly meant she had caught on. Byakuya quickly dismissed the notion that the other two men had figured it out, if they had he knew he would not have left the restaurant. But she had. On some level he felt pleased that she had, pleased that she had figure it out because he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Halibel would have figured it out as well. Inside the pocket of his coat his hand tightened. Halibel would have figured it out and he would have gladly answered the question. But this was not Halibel and he could not tell her, not without consequences he was not willing to face.

"I am here to help," he said.

"Help who?" she asked

"You," he said.

"But you cannot tell me anything else," she sighed, glancing down the street in what had become an all too familiar habit.

"No more than I am sure you have figured out already," he said. She looked at him, obviously surprised that he would call her out on what she had assumed.

"That is a shame," she said after a moment, "I'm usually quite bad with assuming things about people," she spoke, biting her lip after a moment in a familiar gesture of embarrassment.

"That, Miss Measures, I do not believe," he said.

She smiled at that, seemingly not bothered by the fact he did not return the gesture. Slowly they began to walk towards his hotel. It was not far from the restaurant in which they had dined. She stopped when they were under the awning, the doorman waiting just inside to give them a moment of privacy.

"It is unfortunate you can't tell me more," she said looking up at him, "you are quite an intriguing man," she continued, "whoever you are," Byakuya found it impossible to reply, "Good night, Mr. Sakamoto," she said with a smile over her shoulder before she turned and walked down the street.

Byakuya watched her walk away, lingering in the quiet of the night. Slowly her white coat faded into the darkness of the night until she turned a corner and was gone all together. Yet he stayed there, watching her leave until she had disappeared. Turning around, he walked for the door. The doorman quickly pulled it open for him.

"Welcome back sir," he said, "You had a good evening, I trust?"

"Yes," Byakuya replied, not even having to think about it, "I did."

* * *

Noel's fingernails drummed on the wood of the table.

From his position across the table, Renji glanced up at the woman sitting nearby. Her body was turned in profile, one hand drumming on the table and the other laying in her lap. Renji looked down at the papers but his eyes moved back up to her. It was impossible not to look at her. Today she was in a pair of wide black pants that made her legs look impossibly long and a shirt that was deceptively modest. Modest until you looked at it the right way and caught a glimpse of the lace she wore underneath. Her blond hair was loose and flowing, only adding to the illusion she projected. Her eyes could have been the give away. They were sharp and no-nonsense but at the moment they were unfocused and far away. No, the give away for today was her lips. Innocent women did not wear the lipstick she wore and, if they did, it was not with the confidence she did.

"You wanna look at these?" Renji asked.

The fingers stopped drumming, nails poised on the wood like a tiger pausing to strike. Instantly her eyes narrowed as she turned to look at him, a lock of her hair falling across her features. Renji felt something deep inside of him twist at the look she gave him, a look that told him he was worth nothing more than the ground under her feet.

It was supremely unfair.

Oh Byakuya could bitch about Halibel and the ungodly mess she was in. Orihime could whine and worry about Ulquiorra and his current side job. Soifon could beat the tar out of her entire Division as she went for anger instead of worry at when it came to the man she still wouldn't admit she loved. But Renji couldn't care less. Well, somewhere deep inside he was concerned for them but really they had nothing to complain about. Somewhere deep inside their significant others were good people. Good people who bared a resemblance to the ones they had loved. But the woman sitting across from him was anything but Nel. Aside from the physical resemblance he couldn't see Nel in the woman sitting there, looking at him like he was dirt. Even the worst of the Shinigami--even _Wonderwice_, hadn't gotten a look like that.

Renji had always known that Nel had changed he most over the course of her time as an Espada. Ulquiorra had informed him of how Nel had been, of the proud Espada who, though warm to her Fraccion, had always held herself with a cool air when it came to the other Espada. She had had no patience for their squabbles and even her fights with Nnoitra had brought her no joy. Ulquiorra had said that of all the Espada she was, by far, the most dignified. It was a far cry from the Nel that Renji had come to know, the woman who needed absolutely no excuse to throw herself at any one or thing. Fights with the Eleventh Division, games of Endless Tag that usually wound up involving most of Soul Society--while he wouldn't go so far as to call her undignified, he certainly wouldn't have described her as cool.

But this woman sitting across from him, she was an ice queen.

Everything from her white-blond hair to her hard eyes, everything lent itself to that. It was effortless and elegant and Reni wanted nothing more than to destroy every fragment of it. Whoever this bitch was, she wasn't Nel but he was just supposed to deal with it. Renji wasn't a stranger to watching people change. He had undergone his own share of changes as time went on himself. But this was, this was almost too much for the red haired man to bear.

"Fine," Noel said shortly standing up.

The change would have been much easier, he thought, if the woman sitting across from him was not quite so attractive.

Her beauty was undeniable but it was more than that. It was as if every perfect hair, every manicured nail, as if it all called out for him to destroy it. It was an illusion, they both knew it, but it was as though she had gone through great lengths to ensure that he was _painfully_ ware of what lay just underneath. The lace under the sweater, the skin under the hot pink lipstick--the promise of what the illusion was masking was almost too tempting. She walked over to where he stood, her shoes clicking against the ground and leaned over the designs. After a moment she straitened up.

"What are we going to do as a distraction?" she asked.

"So these will work?" Renji asked.

Noel rolled her eyes and crossed her arms as Renji felt both surprised and satisfied at the work. It hadn't been that hard really, he had spent most of his childhood stealing. It was the same principal, all that changed was that he had far more tools at his disposal. He looked up at the woman and got to his feet, raising himself to his considerable height as he leaned against the table next to her, enjoying the slight displeasure in her eyes at even such a minor show of dominance.

"Yes," Noel said, "but we are going to need something that gives us an alibi, something that people won't be suspicious of," she sighed, "I suppose we will have to have a party."

"A party," Renji repeated.

"Yes," she snapped, "a party. We can throw it as a celebration of my Uncle and that woman he's marrying," she spoke flippantly but Renji could hear the underlying bitterness in her tone.

"I'm guessing you're not a fan of his," he said.

"Its not important," she said dismissively.

"Not liking your Uncle?" Renji said, "That's pretty important--"

"And I suppose you have nieces?" she demanded.

"Yeah," he said, "well, not by blood," he scratched the back of his neck, "but I'm Uncle Renji a couple of them."

"How nice for you," Noel said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

She was liking this red haired idiot less and less. Immediately she had seen from his gruff demeanor that whatever manners he possessed had been beaten into him at a much later stage in life. Late enough that everything in polite society seemed to cause him a supreme amount of discomfort. If she didn't have so much to worry about, Noel would have found it almost amusing how out of place he looked sitting in the living room of her house. Or now, even in an office that was anything but outlandish, he still looked as though he'd be happiest out in the slums of the city. It was disgusting and she was still half surprised to find he did not stink of the outside world.

Still, there was something about him that made it impossible for her to dismiss him with the ease she would have liked.

She couldn't say what it was. Maybe it was his tattoos or his violently colored hair--or maybe it was that grin that seemed to come so often and so genuinely to his lips. Whatever it was, though, she found it impossible to just dismiss him as another man she was force to work with. He also seemed not to stare at her like people were inclined to do. If anything, he avoided looking at her and when he did, it was at her face and not at the body that had made men do such terrible things. But, if Noel was really to sit and think, she would say that what was the most infuriating thing of all was the comfort she felt when she was next to him. It was indescribable and more than a little annoying considering his appearance and openness, but she couldn't deny that when she was with him she felt slightly more at ease.

Not enough to forget that her Uncle wanted her dead and her father was more than likely to give him the Syndicate based on his gender more than his accomplishments. But enough so that she didn't find herself looking at the door as often as she should have or staying as close to one of the concealed weapons scattered throughout the room. It was unnerving to say the least and yet, somehow, when she was standing closer to him, she realized that the fear she pushed as far back as she could was almost gone. As if by being in his presence alone, everything in the world would somehow, impossibly, be alright.

"What? You're not Auntie Nel?" he asked with that infuriating grin of his.

"No," she said shortly, "children are not a part of this world."

"So you were born this old?" he asked raising an eyebrow.

"I was not born old!" she shot back.

Renji laughed as Noel felt her cheeks flame. He was teasing her and she had risen to the bait. Clapping a hand against her cheek she turned away, furious that she had been so easily caught.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding" Renji assured her pushing away from the desk. Noel glanced over her shoulder at him, "seriously though, we need to throw a party."

"No," she said flicking her blond hair behind her in an absentminded gesture, "I need to plan a party," her eyes swept over him, "you look as though you would hardly know what do at a party," she arched an eyebrow, "except, perhaps, hide on the balcony?"

"How did you--"

"Call it an educated guess," she said with a smirk.

"Well at your age I'm guessing you've attended a ton of those things," he said.

"Which is why I will make sure it is crowded enough that people will simply assume we are there," she walked back over to the plans.

"Don't they actually need to see us there?" he asked.

"No," she said, "they only need to believe they saw us there. If they believe it they will have no problem telling whatever baboon the police sends that they saw us."

"Baboon?" Renji snorted, thinking of what Grimmjow would say if he could hear that, "aren't you dating one of them?"

Noel straitened up and looked at him skeptically, arching one of her eyebrows as she tried to decipher what he was saying. If she didn't know better, she would say that she saw jealousy in his eyes. Noel narrowed her eyes as she realized that yes, in fact, there was definite jealousy in his eyes. A smile pulled at her lips in amusement. He might have sounded like he was cool and in control but she could see the definite jealousy in his eyes. Well, if he wanted to play tough, she could play tough just as well.

"Dating him?" Noel smiled faintly, reaching up and pushing a lock of her hair back deliberately, "if you want to call it that," she walked forward, her hips moving with the movement as she slid her fingers across the polished wood, "but its mostly just a physical thing."

Despite his words that she was _not_ Nel, that he wanted to break everything she was, Renji couldn't help the heat that coursed through him. In the span of a second she had turned suddenly from some cold ice bitch to, well, to someone infinitely warmer. He swallowed thickly as he watched her nails drag across the wood, over the papers until they came dangerously close to his hand. Renji snatched it back, taking a step back. Big mistake. She was like a predator. One sniff of blood and suddenly she was on the trail, in pursuit. And Renji, being no fool, knew _exactly_ what her prey was.

"Do you shoot all your lovers?" he blurted out in hopes of deterring her.

"Only the lying baboons," she replied, not missing a beat as he ran out of desk.

If she was surprised he knew, she didn't let it show. She just sauntered towards him and Renji suddenly felt as though there was no air in the room. It wasn't just that this was another woman--that she was not Nel, nor was it the fact she was sleeping with Grimmjow. No, the issue at hand was that the woman in front of him was, unfortunately, attractive and dangerous in her own right and if she caught him, well, Renji wasn't sure what was going to happen but he knew it was going to be anything but good. Unfortunately he was running out of room to put between himself and her and he knew that running clear out of the room wasn't anything he should be doing. Not without risking blowing their entire cover. He was in way over his head and the bitch of it was that he wasn't entirely sure he minded. Abruptly he found himself inches from the wall, Noel stopping only when the toes of her shoes were level with his own.

"I don't think we should--" he began.

"Renji," she cut in. He looked at her, "shut up."

Then she grabbed him by the neck of his shirt, yanked him towards her and crushed his lips to hers.

Renji's eyes widened in shock at what was happening and for a second everything in him screamed that _this_ woman was not Nel. She wasn't. For one thing the way she kissed him--but all the reasons he had, all the good, justifiable reasons, they all seemed to fade away when her tongue slipped into his mouth. Then everything in Renji's head that shouted not to do this was turned off, with infuriating speed. His arms wrapped around her body, pulling her close to his chest until their bodies were pressed tightly together. The hand grabbing his t-shirt relaxed, her palm flattening against his shirt as he crushed her to him. Noel realized, with her last bit of conscious thought, that she had been right about being in his arms.

Renji's back hit the wall but he didn't care as his fingers dug into the fabric of her top. Her other hand, the one pinned by his arms, worked itself free and wrapped around his shoulders with almost naked desperation. Renji's arms circle her tighter, to the point where she felt as though breathing deeply would be impossible--not that she needed to do so. Their height difference eased further as she pulled him closer, his neck craning to follow her command. Renji knew it was wrong, somewhere, distantly in the back of his mind. But he would be damned if the woman in his arms didn't kiss like Nel. Didn't smell and feel and touch him like she had. The arm around his shoulders reached up and grabbed his ponytail just as her counterpart once had.

Unfortunately as Renji felt his hair twined around her fingers, the lights that had been so easily shut off clicked back on. It was only his bigger size that let him grab her shoulders and push her back from him. She recovered instantly, stepping out of his grip, one hand pressing to her lips as she stared at him with unnervingly calm eyes. For a moment neither of them moved, neither of them spoke, as though the entire world was holding its breath. And then she lowered her hands, her fingers falling loosely to her sides as she looked at him.

"I--" Renji stared at her, figuring out what she was playing at and somehow finding himself unable to stomach the idea of more games, "I'll see you later," he said instead, doing what he should have done in the first place and walking out of the room.

In the silence, Noel backed up until her backside collided with the desk. Leaning against it she gripped the edge of the wood as tightly as she could, closing her eyes and letting her head fall forward. Everything in her told her she had done the right thing, she had let him know that any power he thought he had, it was a lie. _She_ could control him, could and would. In the span of a heartbeat she would break his. Straitening up, she ran a steady hand through her hair and walked around the desk to the telephone. Picking it up she placed the receiver to her ear and punched in the numbers for an event planner she had used before. Holding the receiver to her ear, she waited for the number to connect as she looked over the papers.

Brow furrowing she lowered the receiver from her ear, placing the phone back in the cradle as she grabbed the paper. Above the plans written on it, just in the corner was a doodle of a phoenix. Despite being poorly drawn, the creature was placed a very certain way--a very _familiar _way. Noel lowered the paper down, her eyes locked on the picture as her mind tried to figure out how the hell this man could possibly know what it was. Picking up the phone again, she quickly dialed another set of numbers as she waited for it to connect.

"World Industries," a secretarial voice said, "how may I direct your call?"

"Yes," Noel said, "I'm calling to speak to Mr. Abarai."

"Mr. Abarai? Let me just check--" the secretary said. Noel waited, "I'm sorry, I have no record of a Mr. Abarai working here. I can connect you to human resources if you would like--"

"No," Noel said, "that's alright. However, could you connect me to Mr. Sakamoto's phone? My name is Noel Winters and I know he is expecting my call."

"Of course Miss Winters," the secretary said, "I'll connect you right away. Have a nice day," she said before her voice faded out.

She heard a car pull into the driveway. Picking up the phone she walked to the window as it began to ring. Peering out into the driveway, she watched as a black car pulled up. Renji walked forward immediately just as Mr. Sakamoto slid out of the back of the car. Noel watched, listening to the ring in her ear. Her heart pounded as she watched him speak to Renji for a moment, their voices reduced to little more than a low murmur. She leaned closer to the window, listening to the breeze, their low voices, the purr of the car being turned off--listening to everything.

Everything, that is, except for the ringing of Mr. Sakamoto's phone.

"I'm so sorry," the secretary came back on the phone, "he doesn't seem to be picking up. Would you like me to take a message?"

"No," Noel said after a moment, "I'll see him soon enough."

"Alright Miss Winters. Have a nice da--"

Noel ended the call, watching as Isabelle joined the two men standing there. Noel's fingers tightened on the phone in her had as she watched the brief exchange, knowing that whatever they were saying was full of lies. Feeling sick with disgust she turned around and all but slammed the phone back into its cradle. Marching to the door she reached out and yanked it open, walking out of the office and down the carpeted hall with every intent of informing her father what was happening. But her feet slowed halfway there before they stopped all together. If Isabelle was in on whatever was going on, then there was a good chance her Uncle was as well.

And if he was not, well, if she played her cards right no-one would be any wiser.

A slow smile came to her lips as Noel turned and walked carefully back into the office, closing the door softly behind her. Taking a deep breath she leaned against the wood, tilting her head back until her skull connected softly with the panels. Opening her eyes she looked at the ceiling, her smile widening. This was truly the most perfect thing she could have asked to happen. Pushing herself off the wood, she walked back to the desk and picked up the phone, dialing the planner's number. It connected far more quickly than the office she had just tried to get in touch with.

"Hello," she said, needing to give nothing, her number already known to them, "I need to plan a party."

"Of course Miss Winters," the event planner cooed, "whatever we can do to assist. Do you have a date?"

"Yes," she said, "in a week," she did not care about the outlandish demand.

"A week?" the planner repeated, voice less thrilled, "well, Miss Winters, you understand--"

"That this party will be nothing short of spectacular," she said firmly, "and I trust you will make it happen," she sat down and placed her feet on the wood of the desk, leaning back in the chair, "I want this party to be incredible."

"Of course," the planner said, "I understand--"

"No," Noel said, "I want it to be to die for."

A few details later and Noel hung up, leaving the work to the woman. Leaning back further in the chair, she laced her fingers behind her head. This party would be to die for, quite literally. Reaching over to the plans laying on the desk she picked up the sheet, her eyes tracing the doodle in the corner. The design, the image, she had been seeing it for as long as she could remember. In dreams, in that odd space between asleep and awake. Usually it was red and made of flames as it flew from some impossibly dark place. It did not illuminate or comfort, no, the phoenix she saw rose and, in its rising, burned. The creature burned and the world around it burned with it. A phoenix that rose from the ashes of whatever had existed before. That, Noel thought, was what she was going to be. From whatever was left of her Uncle's plans when she was done, whatever was left of 'Mr. Sakamoto's' empire, whatever was left of all of it, she was going to rise from it.

The only difference was that _she_ was not going to be the one to burn.

They were.

* * *

**And the plot thickens! I said this story was going to get a bit darker and twistier and I feel like now is really where we go off. I wanted to explore the character's weaknesses including Renji's. Next time Orihime's going to take matters into her own hands and we're going to move even closer to the party.**

**Oh and more people are going to die....and one of the Arrancar might not be coming back. **

**Please _please_ review! I get that not EVERYONE will review, but please people, almost to two hundred of you have this on alert and fave. I'm honored, really, but I love it when you guys review and you TELL me why you like it. The more you review, the faster I update. **

**So please review!**


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